Bloodflame
by Pinch Me
Summary: ra ra Rasputine, Russia's greatest love machine. . . has nothing to do with this story. Newsies, Vampires, Modern day highschool. What more can a fan want?
1. one

****

One 

"Ana?" Stephen asked softly. His older sister had her hand clamped around his wrist in a grip that made the cold blue veins that led up to her fingers stand out. "Where'we goin'?" 

"Shh…" She hissed at him, her blue eyes glowing in the dim light. The sun was setting, casting soft shadows over his sisters face, which was lined with hidden strain. "I told you not to talk." She glanced at her brother, and smiled condescendingly. He was only seven, but didn't see the reason that she had to treat him like such a baby. But in spite of it, he loved his sister. He was never able to give her a name, she was always changing it. From Brooke, to Tracy, to Yvonne, then back to Brooke. He dropped his gaze from hers. "Ah, comon Steph. Jus' a li'l while longer, and then I'll buy you a coke, or something." She said, trying to console the down cast seven year old.

"Yeah. Okay." He said, sighing. She nodded, then walked faster, pulling him along. Her dirty blonde hair fell in front of her face, hanging in front of her heavily painted eyes. She was cold, her jacket had been left at the bus stop accidentally when she saw the next one coming, leaving her with a black tank top and pants to work with. Stephen had objected to that. 

"It's no big deal, Jessica." He had said. She had practically pulled his arm off by dragging him away as she ran. "Another bus. So what?"

"It's no big deal?" She had snapped back. "We don't know who coulda been on that bus. The cops, or maybe someone who had seen my picture in the papers. It ain't safe, Steph." She had then sighed and looked down at him. "Oh, an' from now on, you ain't supposed ta call me Jessica no more."

"Why not?"

"That ain't safe either. I'm Ana. Got that?"

"Okay." He had whispered, terrified of his sister when she got that hard look in her cold blue eyes. So now she walked faster, gripping his wrist tighter, making his fingers tingle. Goosebumps were forming on her own arms and collarbone, and she looked frightened.

She hastily pulled him into a magazine store and told him to shut up and look natural. Ana was good at looking natural. She was now casually striding over to a bookshelf and reaching for a magazine. Stephen sat on a hard chair, swinging his legs idly, stirring up the dusty air. It was darker outside, now that the sun had completely disappeared from view, and the clouds covered the stars. Ana glanced up from her magazine, which she was indifferently flipping through, and then stooped to a lower magazine rack quickly, in the pretence of finding a new one. Stephen had followed her gaze out the window. He knew she had seen something.

"Stephen. Here." She hissed suddenly. He hastily jumped off the chair and stumbled to her side. He heard a car growl, and slowly drive by. "It's the cops. They're onto us. We'll never get on that ship…"

"We're goin' on a ship?" He smiled. She glared over at him.

"Forget I said that."

"Okay."

"Comon!" She ran over to the girls washroom and dragged him inside, much to his seven year old disgust. Then she went into one of the stalls, climbed up onto the seat of the toilet, and placed her hands on the frame of a window, and pushed. 

"Ana, I can't go in here!"

"Shut up!"

"It's a girls washroom!"

"I said shut up!" She said, almost speaking above a whisper. He quieted immediately, and watched her pound on the frame till it slid upwards. Then she hastily clambered through it and dropped onto the ground. "Stephen! Comon." She hissed loudly. He climbed up onto the tank and was able to pull himself up on to the frame. Then he peered over. The ground seemed miles and miles away to his hazel eyes, but even more frightening was the sight of his sisters expression, malicious and threatening. Gulping, he slid one leg over, feeling his stomach lurch and pulled himself through. His fingers, slick with sweat, suddenly faltered, and he toppled off and landed on the cement on his side, pain washing over him. He felt tears spring to his eyes, but knew his sister wouldn't like that.

"Whassa matter with you?" She hissed, pulling him to his feet. "The cops are after the both of us!"

"No, they're only after you." He replied softly.

"Wrong." She snapped, her eyes evil. "They're after you too. If we get caught, they're gonna lock you up in a cell. With rats. And monsters. You'll be there for the rest of your life."

"Ana…" He pleaded. She just pressed a finger to her lips.

"That's why you gotta do what I say, and not fuck anything up, because this…" But she was cut off by a sudden rustling noise as a figure caught her and pulled her sideways. Stephen only caught the sight of her angry eyes turn wide with terror before she was pulled away. He slid to the ground behind a garbage can and crawled forwards.

A dark haired figure was dressed in a black, loose tank top and huge baggy jeans. His skinny, yet muscular arms were wrapped around her waist, but his face was hidden by the fallen strands of hair. Stephen froze, crouched a few feet away from his sister and this stranger.

"Let go a' me!" She screamed. Then she swung her fist backwards and smashed it into his face. His head snapped backwards, but then he recovered instantly.

"I'm impressed." He smiled. Then he threw her down onto her front. She hastily scrambled forwards into a crawl, but he grabbed her leg, flipped her over, then straddled her, smiling down at her terrified face. She craned her head backward and caught Stephen's eye.

"Stephen!" She screamed. "Help! Stephen, help me!" Stephen could do nothing. He was frozen, like a block of ice. The stranger glanced up at him, and Stephen caught the colour of his eyes. Then he looked down again and wrapped his fingers over her lips, wrenching her head sideways at the same time. Fluid as water, he leant over and pressed his face to her throat. His hair flopped down, and Stephen didn't know what was going on, but could only hear the sudden, terrified screams of his older sister. His fingers were white and taut on the ground, and his face was pale, as her shrieks streamed through the air, upward to the sky, and then slowly dwindled down to moans of pain, then nothing. Her eyes fluttered shut.

The man wrenched his face away and looked up at Stephen. Blood was shining on his lips, the same kind that soaked his sisters throat. He wanted to back away, back away and run back to his home, wherever it was, but he was glued to the cement. The stranger stood, wiping off his lips and smirking down at the terrified child.

"See ya round, kid." He said softly. Then he turned and stalked off, the night consuming him like dark, thick smog. 

The police arrived a few moments later, and took Stephen away.

+

Misprint: It is reposted…and it is good…

Shade: er. it's good**er**

Misprint: Just like your grammar.

Shade: Grammar is to me what Vampires are to you

Misprint: Angsty and overrated?

Shade: Angst _making _and overrated

Misprint: Hello, dear readers. A few changes in this new Bloodflame, mostly just the accents taken out, along with a few references that were going no where.

Shade: Most of them are her fault but truly they make it better

Misprint: Hey. I wasn't the one changing Shade's future every other session.

Shade: oh how could I forget Mrs {Insert plot thingimaduy she won't let me give away here}

Misprint: -smile- We hope you enjoy it. Even if you've already read it, we would prefer you to read it again…partially because there's some new hints that need reading, and partially because we like reviews. 

Shade: Trust me when I say it's better this time around. She took the parts I effected out. . . like quoting Queen of the Damned. That is now at a bare minimum. Go, Girl!

Misprint: The best part about that sentence was when she had to type "girl" four times to get it right. Right gilf?

Shade: Dude you wrote Bite you have nothing on me.

Misprint: Yeah? At least Bite was **spelled properly. **

Shade: spell this -turns off word processor-


	2. two

****

Two 

Shade walked into class and dropped down next to her friend Misprint, slamming her books down on the table top.

"Three days." She said, her New York accent still apparent, despite the ten years of training in school. "Three days since we were free." Misprint nodded and stretched, her black hair glinting in the late summer sunlight as it poured in the open windows.

"Winter break can't come soon enough." She replied, in the same accent. She resumed twirling her pen between her two fingers, as though it was some kind of important task she couldn't quit. Shade turned sideways in her seat to talk to her, but was interrupted by their teacher, Mrs. Orrello, a bleach blonde woman with sharply plucked eyebrows and watery blue eyes.

"Quiet. Please, everyone. Quiet." She said. That was always how she began the lesson. Resigned, Misprint and Shade both turned to her, Misprints fingers still not idle on her pen. They had been together at boarding school since they were in grade one, and had made it ten years, to this very day. They had every teacher's traits memorised to a fault. "Today we…class! Quiet, please everyone. Everybody, be quiet!" She cleared her throat ominously, and every one finally had the grace to stop whispering. "Thank you." She said, exaggerating the "thank" to make it seem like she had been waiting a decade. "Now. Today we are taking a closer look at the Great Depression and…"

The door burst open suddenly and a boy of seventeen appeared, with dirty blonde hair slicked back from his forehead, a grey shirt, and black, baggy jeans. A small white necklace was around his neck. He had a back pack slung casually over his shoulder.

"Sorry." He said, pausing at the door frame. "This Social Studies?"

"Yes. It is." The teacher said, blinking five times, very fast. "Can I help you?" 

"Yeah…I'm Kelly, Jack Kelly. Transferred. They told me to come here."

"Oh…well…" This put Mrs. Orrello off slightly, as though any interruption threw the whole block plan off. "Ah…yes…take a seat…" She pointed vaguely to a desk near the corner. "But I don't understand…no warning… Why didn't you stay at your other school?"

"Kicked out." He said, fastening her with a clear gaze. She blinked again, then took a deep, hissing breath. 

"I see…Well. Class, this is…"

"Jack Kelly." Misprint and Shade said along with her. Then they both smirked. She gave them a look that was meant to cut them both dead, and continued.

"I hope you treat him with the same respect due to any of your friends." This statement was going largely unheeded. A few boys were twisting around in their seats and leering at him. He was meeting them with a steady look. Mrs. Orrello looked over at him again, and her face wrinkled in a slight form of strain.

"I'm afraid that is not standard uniform, Mr. Kelly…I suggest you tell the office as soon as possible so they may fit you with the proper attire…" Shade shut her ears. This was too boring. Instead, she turned around in her seat, and let her eyes rest on the new boy. Jack. He was toying with his pen, almost the same way Misprint was, but looser, more careless. He was slouching in his seat, his eyes still at the front, but bored. He glanced over at her, and furrowed his eyebrows. Not wanting him to think she was like the other guys, she gave him a quick smirk, then turned back to her book. Misprint, unknowing of Shades silent, visual investigation, was desperately flipping through the book, trying to find her notes on the great depression.

It seemed the class stretched on forever. Shade wanted to press her face against her notes and fall asleep, but she realised that ink stains across her face might not be all that admirable. She chewed on the back of her pen, letting her eyes blur as she watched Mrs. Orrello write notes on the board, the woman's hand moving faster than a jet plane streaking across the sky, leaving curls of white dust against the dark green.

Shade glanced over at the new boy, and was surprised and somewhat contrite to see him writing, his eyes flicking up to the board now and then, and then back to his paper. So he was paying attention. Unlike her. Well, it gave her time to study him in more depth. His eyes, once you looked close enough, weren't completely grey, they had slight flecks of hazel in them, and his tinted blonde hair looked like it had used half the gel bottle to stay in place. But a couple strands hung down from his forehead. She raised her eyebrows in appraisal. He was kind of cute. She wouldn't mind getting to know him better.

As though he could sense her gaze, he looked up, those smoky eyes catching her. She quickly looked down at her paper again and tried to feign concentration, but she was completely lost. She hadn't been taking notes for the last stretch of the class, and in consternation, glanced over at Misprint's paper, noticing she had been diligently copying the words on the board. Was she the only one off today? 

Her peripheral vision told her that he was still watching her, but whether it was in enrapture or annoyance, she had no clue. She risked a glance at him, and saw it was with the clear, burning look he had all class. As though a grey candle flamed behind his irises. She chanced a small smile, and was gratified when she saw his lips quirk slightly. 

'And the entire plot is revealed.' She thought. That was what Misprint had said when they were watching one of those old corny movies, where the man is introduced to the beautiful woman, and they both exchange a look that can only mean one thing. Wedding bells. 

"Alyson Mayer!" She tore her gaze away from his face and looked up in trepidation and slight scorn. "What are you staring at?" This time emphasis on the "are", which meant "it better not be what I think it is." Mrs. Orrello had seen the way the girls were smiling silkily at the new boy.

"Jus' day dreamin', Mizz O." She smiled foolishly, purposely darkening the curves of her accent. Mrs. Orrello had detested the fact that both she and Misprint had never been able to get rid of that "horrid gutter accent." 

"Mrs. Orrello." She corrected automatically. Her puddle-like eyes were narrowed in menace. "Then perhaps, since we are done dreaming, we can pay attention?"

"Yes Mizz O." She replied amiably. Misprint nudged her. Shade glanced over and could read her friends expression immediately. 'You're pushing it.'

"Now, back to the job cuts…" She said, gazing suspiciously at Shade for another moment, before turning and scrawling more on the board again. Misprint and Shade exchanged a look, before returning to their respective tasks.

Shade turned around to see Jack again, who was now smirking at her, as though her insolence had amused him. She smiled again, and rolled her eyes at Mrs. Orrello. They had a connection, even though he was sitting across the room. She could feel it. Until it was severed by Misprint's pencil jabbing against her side.

"Ow!" She squealed quietly. Not quiet enough. Mrs. Orrello whirled around, but only saw a rather flustered looking Shade scrawling tiny sentences in her notebook. It was lucky she wasn't close enough to see, or she would have noticed that they were random letters made too look like words. Misprint made a period at the end of her sentence, and looked up again, her innocent blue eyes questioning why Mrs. Orrello had stopped. Feeling the mistrust in her, the teacher turned and began writing again.

"What was that for?" Shade wrote. Misprint glanced up at Mrs. Orrello, before leaning over and replying.

"Write now. Flirt later." Shade didn't deny the fact. Misprint always seemed to know things. She rolled her eyes.

"But this may be the only class we have together!" She wrote, making the exclamation mark big and fat. 

"It's a small school." Misprint scratched. 

"Yeah, so what?" She wrote back. Then they both glanced guiltily up at Mrs. Orrello, before continuing the written debate. 

"So I'm saying that I want to get to know as much about him now than later." Shade wrote.

"Well at least try and pay a little attention." She looked pointedly at the page Shade had turned out, with gibberish written all over it. Shade scowled.

"Why are you such a goody 2 shoes all of a sudden?" She scribbled.

"Well, I'd rather pass now than take summer school later." She wrote logically. Shade sighed, then continued writing.

"Well, at least the old battleaxe didn't see us before." She scribbled. Misprint elbowed her suddenly, making her drop the pencil. She glanced over at her friend and froze when she saw her blue eyes staring upwards. Before her was a huge front of a horrible pink and polka dotted dress. Shade drew her eyes upward, suspecting the worse.

Mrs. Orrello was reading the lines they had written. All to late, Misprint slammed her hand down over the blue lined paper, but the teachers sharp eyes had picked up every syllable.

"Faith. Alyson. I think you two should stand out in the hall. Immediately." She said, breathing out through her nose, like some kind of dragon. Shade and Misprint hastily packed up their binders and stood. Everything was at stake now for the girls, knowing that getting on Mrs. Orrello's bad side this early in the year could be deadly. They were not eager to retake social studies.

Shade glanced back at Jack one more time, who was writing again. As hard as she stared, she couldn't get him to look up again. And suddenly, Misprint was dragging her into the hall.

+ 

"Damn that woman." Shade said, pacing around the incredibly messy room. "Damn it, damn it, damn it."

"Well, look at it this way." Misprint shrugged, completely apathetic, lying face down on a pile of laundry in her boxers and tank top. "At least we got outta Social Studies."

"Misprint, you know that I probably won't get the chance to talk to_him _again." She said. She put so much emphasis on the word "him" that Misprint immediately knew who it was, and rolled her eyes. Shade sighed and sat down. She was wearing a black sports bra and her own boxers. "Boys ain't allowed in the goil's dorm, an'…"

"Feel free to end your sentence there. I already know what you're gonna say." Misprint assured her. Shade rolled her eyes.

"Thanks." She said sarcastically, tossing a pillow. It landed with a soft "thlump" on Misprint's back. She groaned and rolled over. Shade grabbed a hair brush and started violently pulling it through her hair. 

"Hey." Misprint said suddenly, sitting up. "Tomorrow's Friday. There's that new club that's opening on Avenue A."

"But we ain't allowed outside the dorms after nine!" Shade replied. They looked at each other, and burst out laughing. "Let's go." Shade concluded.

"Damn straight. New club. Openin' near here. Wouldn't miss it for the woild." Misprint said, closing her eyes. She yawned. "Man. It'll be a nice change. I'm bored as hell." Shade, however, was looking thoughtful.

"I wonder if Jack would like to go with us…" She said softly. Misprint groaned and buried her face in the pillow.

Just then, thankfully, the bell that signalled lunch started ringing, vibrating through the entire building. Shade glanced around nervously. The buildings that held the girls and boys dorms were so old. Misprint had found out that they were tenements from the 1800s, when the Polish, German, and Irish families were immigrating over to "the new country", and setting up their lives in the rooms that the girls complained were too small. 

They were brick, and musty smelling, especially when it was sunny, and the bricks soaked up the light and gave off a dry, clay odour that the girls hated at first, then found enjoyable, knowing it as the smell of summer. There was an air vent, that ran from the top of the building to the bottom, and a rickety black fire escape snaking up the side.

The buildings were so old, Shade was always afraid the slightest disturbance of the peace would make them collapse into a million summery smelling bricks and dead girls. Which would be great for the reporters and newspapers, but not for them. So she was always antsy about being in the building when the bell rang. It seemed so loud compared to the quiet, withered air in the dusty rooms.

Misprint looked down at herself.

"Too bad we can't wear this to dinner." She said softly. Shade laughed half heartedly.

"Of course not. You'd get expelled. And then we'd have no place to go." She said practically. Misprint nodded, and reached for her blouse and tie. 

When they were fully "decent", the girls pushed open the door and started for downstairs, still rubbing the sleep out of their eyes. The school days got so exhausting when you were used to a summer of laziness and freedom. Now the school rules seemed restricting, and tighter than the ties that they were forced to wear. 

As they filed out of the old girls tenement, Shade's eyes flicked over the rest of them, trying to differentiate Jack, which wouldn't be hard, if he hadn't received the uniform yet. Instead, they caught on other jags. A boy with blonde hair and glasses in a casual blue tee shirt, dark jeans, and big black sneakers. His hair was sticking up oddly in some places, and sometimes smoothed down, in a mass of wiry strands of blonde. A cute, dark haired boy was wearing a black tee shirt, jeans, and a darker jacket over the whole thing. The most interesting of all, though, was a girl, maybe thirteen or fourteen, with jet black hair, glittering green, catlike eyes, with a red sweatshirt that bore a graffiti logo on the front. Four new kids at once, that didn't look similar, and didn't even talk to each other. It was too strange for Shade to figure out.

Misprint knew her friend was looking for Jack, and hastily elbowed her in the ribs. Shade shot her a glare, and elbowed her back. Soon, the two were engaged in a ferocious elbowing fight, which finally sent Misprint spinning into a prim looking girl with a practised, demure pout plastered on her lip gloss tinted lips.

"Watch where you're _going_." She said acidly. Misprint raised her eyebrows.

"Sorry, your highness." She remarked. Then she turned back to Shade. "Thanks a lot." Shade grinned and patted her on the shoulder.

"Yer welcome." She replied. The two pushed their way into the dining room and went to their seats. 

The kitchen women came around, with their huge pots and spoons, ladling the usual beef stew into the bowls that had been set out. Misprint wrinkled her nose as Maria, an Italian woman, dumped a ladle full of it in front of her. But she knew better to complain, unless she wanted an accented tirade for most of dinner. She exchanged a glance with Shade, and looked back down at their food.

But just as Shade looked up again, she finally caught sight of him. The grey tee shirt was completely different from the white and blue of the blouses and ties that everyone else wore. They were given permission to start, and Misprint poked at the beef, wondering whether it was still pink inside, but Shade didn't let her gaze drop. He was so addictive, easy to look at. 

Misprint glanced over and saw her friend wasn't eating. She elbowed her softly, not wanting to start a huge fight, but wanting to sufficiently get her attention away from whatever was so interesting on the other side of the room.

"Look." She said. "I know the food is hideous, but we _do_ have to eat…"

"No…" she said distractedly. "No, it ain't that."

"Then what?" Misprint furrowed her brows, then followed her friends gaze. "Oh. That."

"What?"

"That. Jack." She rolled her eyes. "Look, if he's that important to you, I'll corner him after dinner and make him wait for you or something."

"Sure. I can ask him if he'll go with us to the club."

"Yeah, whatever." Misprint groaned. Then she squeezed her eyes shut and took a bite out of her stew. She hastily swallowed it, before she had the chance to gag, grabbed her water glass, and chugged half of it. Then she finally opened her eyes again. "Disgusting." She muttered under her breath. 

Dinner seemed to stretch on for an eternity, Misprint having to have her glass of water refilled four times just to wash the taste out of her mouth. Shade hardly tasted a bite, as she kept glancing over at Jack, feeling pathetic and girly, but not wanting to rupture the warm feeling she got inside whenever she saw his face. Finally, the bell rang, and Misprint jumped to her feet.

"I'm outta here." She announced to Shade, as the rest of the students slowly began to stand up. 

"Quick!" Shade said, as Jack stood and started leaving.

"Oh. Right." Misprint sighed, as though burdened, then shot towards the unsuspecting boy, and managed to elbow her way towards him just before he left through the door to the boys dorm.

"Heya. Jack." She yelled. He paused, and glanced over his shoulder, eyes blank.

"Me?" He asked.

"Yeah. You. Blondie. Who else? Wait up a second, wouldja? My friend wants to have a talk witcha." She motioned Shade over, who waved back and casually strolled towards them. Misprint rolled her eyes.

"Heya Jackie." She said. 

"Hiya. Alyson, is it?" He asked, raising his eyebrows. She winced.

"No. No, not at all. It's Shade."

"Aight then. Shade." He extended his hand toward her. She grinned, and shook it, liking the feel of his warm, callused hand overtop of hers. 

"We were wonderin'." Misprint started her off, eager to get out of this tan, surfer looking boys presence and back to her comfortable pile of laundry.

"Yeah." Shade picked it up almost flawlessly. "There's a club opening this Friday, Avenue A." She said. "Misprint and I are planning to sneak out. You game?"

"What time?" He asked.

"Ten, maybe ten thoity." She replied. He shook his head. Misprint sighed and glanced pointedly at the door. Small talk wasn't doing well for her patience. Shade, however, refused to give up. 

"Can't make it?"

"No. And you shouldn't either." He said firmly. This caught Misprint's attention.

"Begging your pardon?" She asked, raising her eyebrows. He glanced over at her, but then returned his gaze to Shade immediately.

"Don't go."

"Whaddaya talking about?" She asked, slightly thrown off by this strange reaction. 

"I'm talking about it bein' dangerous." He replied.

"Life without danger is a waste of oxygen." Misprint murmured absently. Shade smirked. 

"Very cute. But I'm serious." Jack insisted.

"Your crazy." Misprint said dismissively, and turned to walk away. But his hand shot out and grabbed her elbow. "What?" She asked, whirling around.

"Do not go out after dark." He said again. 

"Or what?"

"'Cuz it affects me." He said, smirking slightly. "And I've got enough on me back already." Then, with that final statement, he turned and walked away. Shade turned to Misprint in disbelief.

"What was that all about?" She asked incredulously. Misprint shrugged, then a familiar smirk breezed across her lips.

"Seems like he just blew us off." She replied.

+ 

Don't go out after dark. Don't go out after dark. Jack bitterly kicked at a stone and watched it skitter dully ahead on the overgrown grass. He knew the girls would never obey his brief, strange warning. No one ever really did, and it only made things worse. Don't go out after dark.

It just so happened that darkness attracted people like honey attracted flies. For some reason, people seemed to like the dark, become attached to it, forgetting the danger that always lurked in the shadows. 

He thought of Shade and Misprint, and almost laughed. Shade was crazy about him, that was obvious enough. Every time he looked up she was there, staring at him. She was pretty, with her dark auburn hair and the light sprinkling of freckles across her nose, and her deep, chocolate coloured eyes. But he just wasn't looking for a relationship. It was the last thing he needed.

And Misprint. She was innocent enough, with her big blue eyes and stand-offish behaviour. But she could be easily victimised, and so could Shade. Anyone at the school could. And it was his job to make sure that they didn't get out after dark, didn't go upsetting everything, stayed inside.

So why weren't they co-operating? 

"Jack." A voice said. He turned to see Dutchy, the blonde boy looking more distrait than usual. He flashed a small envelope. "News from the Bronx."

"A'right. You an' Bumlets meet me up in me room the minute you get the chance." He said.

"What about Chaos? She deserves to know too."

"I'll tell her." Jack said dismissively. To tell the truth, he wasn't all that concerned if Chaos got the information or not. She and Jack rubbed each other the wrong way, frankly, and weren't the best of friends. Not enemies, but not friends.

Dutchy nodded, then elbowed his way through the crowd, trying to get to Bumlets before he got too swept away to notice that one of his partners was trying to get his attention.

Jack branched off from the pushing crowd of boys down the hallway, past a short Italian that he had a Science class with earlier that day. He was lighting a cigar outside his dorm room, glancing furtively up and down the hall. Anthony Higgins.

"Hey Jack." He said, when he saw the blonde boy.

"Heya Anthony." He replied, opening his door. 

"How you enjoying school?"

"Enjoying?" He smirked. Anthony grinned back, as Jack slid the door closed.

Glancing out the window, he could see the sun sinking below the city line of New York, outlining the buildings with a golden shine, as though someone had taken a sparkly marker and defined the grey building and the liquid sky. He sighed and slowly pulled off the grey tee shirt he had been wearing all day, bunched it into a ball, and tossed it into the basket he used for dirty laundry. Then he ran a hand through his hair. The move back to New York had been exhausting, and also kind of anxious, so anxious that his stomach had ached all night. But he had to work around it. He had to do his job.

A knock sounded on the door, and he hastily grabbed a black tank top and pulled it on, before going and opening it. Dutchy and Bumlets stood there, the envelope clutched in Dutchy's hand.

"Thanks you guys." He said quietly, letting them in. 

"Okay. Let's see what this is all about." Bumlets said, sitting on the bed next to Dutchy. Dutchy nodded and opened the envelope. Both their faces grew intent as they read over it. Jack stood there, thumbs hooked in his pockets, and watched the both of them. Dutchy looked up at him, then slowly handed him the paper. Jack, brows furrowed, took it, and collapsed in a bean bag chair and slowly began reading what the Bronx had sent them. 

He finished the strange letter, and looked up at Dutchy.

"A civil war?" He asked.

"I don't believe it." Dutchy said immediately. "They wouldn't fight their own kind." 

"It ain't unheard of, Dutchy." Bumlets said slowly. "Humans have civil war. Lions and tigers have fights to see who will lead their pack next. I see no reason why they can't have a war…"

"It _is_ rather strange, though." Jack said, resting his chin on his fist. "I mean…why?"

"And where do we fit in?" Dutchy added.

"Both sides? I dunno." Bumlets said, falling backwards and resting on the bed. He stared up at the ceiling. "I'm just assuming there's gonna be lots a trouble on the horizon."

"You and me both."

"Ah, comon you guys." Jack said, standing. He glanced edgily out the window. "S'gettin' dark." 

+

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misprint: and...another chapter! posted!

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shade: after a large pause in which i read FOUR cheesy smutty vampire novels

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misprint: and in which i procrastinated and made fun of her about those four cheesy smutty vampire novels

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shade: what she doesn't know is that she missed out on sexy french men in leather and lace 

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misprint: what she doesn't know is that i know. 

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shade: then what i really don't know is why she would not like sexy french men and sex in bathtubs

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misprint: well, for one, i just can't manage that handlebar mustache. and for two, only if you have those rubber pillow things, because i don't know about you, but concussions aren't very sexy. we hope you enjoyed this chapter, tune in next -coughmumblecough- for more angsty vampire entertainment!

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shade: handlebar mustache? -is so confused-

****

misprint: possum. -closes aim box-

+

****

Mango Gypsy  
misprint: who are they running from? the cops. basically. the reason why will eventually get explained...twenty or so chapters later...-ahem-. wow. this review is full of awesome. thanks, love!  
**Shade:** Is it just me or do you rock the casbah? she's right though the review is super uber.

****

Student Number -coughmumblecough-  
misprint: "never got to" is one of my favourite excuses. it implies so many things. too much homework, no internet, rampant weasels...it's like thousands of excuses all in one. well, twenty something chapters is a lot less daunting, ne?  
**shade**: thats a good excuse "never got to" ooh i'm so using that from now on. okay if a god thinks a chapter is good does that make the chapter godly? [incase you missed it the god was you]

****

Thistle  
shade: quick? us? never. . . no really we take FOREVER to update. . . but we love you anyway.  
**misprint:** it's a good thing you didn't get to finish the first version, 'cuz...it blew. update quick? -cracks up- yeah. if you're lucky.

****

Gothic Author  
misprint: if you thought it was great then, you're going to be super impressed. no more bloody accents! wheee...ha ha. fifty chapters sucessfully squished into twenty something. the miracles of desperate compression! and yes. yes, queen of the damned is horrible.   
**shade:** GOTHICA SLANT. JC says 'je reve tu' and i say I love you. QotD is horrible. . . in a really really good way! 

****

Mondie  
**misprint:** ohhh...but that's the point! if you had saved all fifty chapters, there'd be so much bad left over, and no space for the good that is going to be this story! and we posted a li'l thingy on the board, so...wasn'tmenotmyfaultpleasedon'tyellatme. -shrivel-  
**shade:** -hides- I'M SO SORRY PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE FORGIVE ME! please? I posted it after I talked to you and then I sorta forgot. . . but it makes me sad that you wanted to save the EVIL bad other version. -hides-

****

Shadow Dreamer  
misprint: visited by a vamp? really? please?  
**shade:** um. . . even though we updated can you send us a vamp anyway? or can you send me a vamp? please?


	3. three

****

Three

The alarm woke Shade up long before Misprint, who was substantially buried in pillows and clothes, giving Shade the impression that even if the building did collapse, Misprint wouldn't be able to hear it. She rolled over and smacked the clock, only making the volume spinner shift upwards, causing her ears to rattle horribly.

"Whazawhoonow…" Misprint muttered, her face appearing from under the gigantic mound of fabric. "Whadidyoudo…"

"I dunno." Shade yawned. She finally fumbled around and found the "off button", clicked it, and promptly fell back asleep. Misprint, however, dragged herself out of bed and pulled a spare pillowcase from her hair. She shuffled into the bathroom and yawned, grabbed the jar of OXY pads that Shade always kept, and she was always stealing, and started swiping at her face, wondering if the coolness of the god-knows-what in there would help her wake up.

She finally took some of the rosewater witch hazel concoction Shade had found and rubbed that on her face too, trying to get rid of the sharp odour of the OXY pads. Then she took a hair brush and gel, and stared at her hair in the mirror, which was flattened and ugly. Working quickly, she took the brush and started viciously working out the hair spray clumps from yesterday, squinting as her eyes watered.

Half an hour later, Misprint was dressed in her blouse, navy blue tie and kilt, bright rainbow socks, which were not allowed, strictly speaking, and dim hints of eyeliner. 

Shade was waking up.

"Heya sleepin' beauty." She said, sitting on the edge of her bed. "We got twenny minutes. Think you can swing that?"

"Watch me." She said sleepily, as she trekked into the bathroom.

True to her word, she was awake and ready in fifteen. Misprint raised her eyebrows and applauded as Shade bowed, immaculate, (well, almost, considering the hemp necklaces that decorated her arms, legs, and neck, which also, weren't allowed), and ready for breakfast.

"I don't feel like goin' to Science taday." She said, pulling her hair back into a braid as they walked through the halls. They, as always, were the last ones down. 

"You wanna cut it? Go spend time in The Closet?" Misprint asked. "The Closet" was an empty, janitors closet, that still held brooms, mops, buckets, and the perpetual odour of ammonia. But it was silent, and abandoned, and the last place any two girls would want to hang out if they were cutting class. That's why it was perfect for Misprint and Shade. 

"Nah." She said. "We shouldn't start so early in the year. Maybe in a couple of months."

"True." Said Misprint, but she sighed in disappointment, as they headed down to the mess hall.

They quickly took their seats before anyone could get on their case about being late, and sat there, trying their best to look like angels, (which was hard, with the forbidden make up, socks, and hemp jewellery) and waited for the usual eggs to be served.

Finally, when Maria walked down the table, dumping the eggs into each girls bowl, both found out that they weren't cooked especially well that morning, and were almost floating in egg slime. The two limp, floppy pieces of bacon were laid beside it.

"That's pretty gross." Shade said, a hand instinctively going out and clutching her orange juice.

"Happy breakfast." Misprint said softly. Shade nodded, disheartened, and began nibbling at the bacon. 

Misprint was daydreaming. She often did that, trying to escape the cramped, shallow life of the boarding school. She thought of the club tonight, and hoped the music would be good, not some kind of techno remix of another pop song. Bronze street was a little ways away from here, but they could walk it. They always did.

Before she knew it, the bell was ringing, telling them to get the hell out of the mess hall and to class. 

+ 

Misprint was reprimanded four times for the socks by lunch time. She had grown sick of hearing it. "Those are not part of the uniform, Faith." "Faith, what are you wearing?" "Faith, what happened to the navy blue socks?" "Those aren't the right socks, Faith."

Shade, alike, had her necklaces confiscated five times by the end of the day. Misprint was sure that they'd have confiscated her own socks as well, but, let's face it, you can't confiscate socks.

The day dragged on like any other school day, in which you have no interest or attention for any of the lessons whatsoever. The only interesting course they had all day was Home Economics, and it wasn't because they were making oatmeal cookies. It was because two of the new kids were in that class.

The first thing Shade noticed as she walked into the fairly large, gleaming white kitchen-class was the black haired boy and girl from yesterday. She elbowed Misprint, who glanced at them, then shrugged dismissively. She was already concentrating on the recipe that their teacher had set out. She was never the best cook in the world, and hated the organisation that was required. 

"Gimme the right ingredients, instructions, and an oven." She had told Shade once. "And I'm fine. But when every single drop a' moisture in the damn measurin' cup has to be poifect, that's when I crack."

Shade dropped her bag down onto a chair, then hesitantly made her way over to the two new kids. The girl had her uniform, and was looking quite indignant indeed as she pulled at the tie, fiddled with the kilt, and rolled the socks up and down. 'Get used to it.' Shade thought, smirking. Then she sat down across from her. The boy, who was sitting next to her, looked up in surprise.

"Hi." She greeted. "Name's Shade."

"Chaos." The girl said smoothly.

"And," the boy paused. "Bumlets." Shade raised an eyebrow, but didn't delve into the subject of the strange origins of the boys name. Even though she had never heard a name like it, she was certain it was a nick name, or some kind of term of affection. 

"You guys know Jack Kelly?" She asked suddenly.

"Jack Kelly?" Chaos said, furrowing her brows. "Never heard of him."

"Nope." Bumlets added. Shade glanced at the both of them. They had said it too smoothly, too quickly to let it be true. The way Chaos's eyes dropped as she returned her gaze almost confirmed the fact. Bumlets leaned back in his chair and started fiddling with the straps of his back pack. He hadn't been able to retain a uniform yet, so he wore a black sweatshirt and jeans. His hair flopped adorably in front of his face, but it looked as though he had used mounds of gel and styling products to keep it exactly like that. Shade decided to break the ice.

"You guys heard 'bout that club opening tonight?" She asked. Chaos shook her head slowly. Both acted as though they wanted her to leave, but were trying to appear normal and friendly. "Well…" She leaned in closer. "Don't tell nobody, but my friend and I are attending the opening."

"What time?" Bumlets asked suddenly, looking up.

"Maybe ten thoity." She replied. 

"Don't go." Chaos said smoothly. Shade looked at her, her eyebrows raised. "It'll be dark by then."

"We know." Shade replied. What was it with the new kids and the "don't go out after dark" deal? How could they be so like Jack and not know him?

"You can't go out after dark." Bumlets said calmly. Shade leaned forwards.

"That's what Jack said as well." She remarked. "You sure you don't know him?"

"We told you before." Chaos said, a little too snippily. She flipped her pointed hair over her shoulder. Shade caught the nervous movement, and studied her. Her hair, even though it was shoulder length, was sharp. Like it had been spiked down. Her eyes glittered nervously, concealing secrets. "I ain't never heard of him, neither has Bumlets."

"Well how do you two know each other?" Shade asked casually. Chaos and Bumlets exchanged a look, and even Shade caught the secret anxiety.

"Siblings." Bumlets said finally. "Chaos is my sister."

"I see…"

"Listen." Bumlets continued. He put down his back pack. "Don't go out tonight. Even if it is the opening of this new club. It'll be dark." Shade was about to reply, when their teacher, Mrs. Carson, appeared, as though sent there by some kind of irritating magic. 

"Take your seats please." She said, in her infuriatingly nasal voice. Shade sighed and stood, then sidled back over to Misprint. She couldn't wait to figure this out with her friend.

+ 

Jack sighed and sat down on his bed. Chaos stood in front of him, which was part of the reason he was so aggravated. She had her hands on her hips and was staring at him, as though he could magically come up with a proposition for these two troublemakers.

"Whaddaya staring at me for?" He asked. She shrugged.

"Just telling you. They're not going away. And it's easy to guess what we do. Thanks to _Buffy,_ our job is very publicized."

"I know, I know." He said, not wanting to get her started on the hard lists of facts. He stood and pulled off his shirt as he made his way to the dresser. She turned around so he wasn't running away.

"_And_ you didn't tell me about that letter from the Bronx." She accused. He glanced behind him. 

"Didn't get the chance."

"Didn't get da chance? We were together for the last half of the day, Kelly!" She said, her eyes flashing with anger. 

"Well I forgot."

"How could you forget about something as important as this?"

"It ain't all that important!" He yelled, pulling on the same tank top from last night and sliding a few choice weapons into his pockets. 

"It ain't important and I'm the Queen of Prussia." She rolled her eyes.

"Well, whatever, a'right?" He yelled. 

"No, it ain't alright." Standing there, hands balled into fists, eyes livid, she looked like some kind of murderer dressed as a school girl. He tried not to smile. "We're supposed to be working as a team, Kelly."

"Well you obviously found out about it, so it's not big deal!" He glanced out the window as the sun set, and made sure he carried the blade he usually did. The city was glowing, again, but he saw past the glow, only seeing what he would be doing in a few short minutes.

Chaos threw her hands up in aggravation, then stalked over to his dresser and yanked the drawers open.

"Hey! Whaddaya doin'?" He protested.

"Borrowin' your clothes." She snapped. "At least your good for that much." She pulled out a pair of baggy jeans and a big black tee shirt. Then turned and climbed out the window. She scaled down the side of the building and made for the girls tenement, seething with rage. 

Jack ducked out the window. 

"You'd better bring them back when you're done!" He yelled after her.

"You want me to iron 'um for you too?" She called back, angry. He sighed. That's when he heard the raucous laughter from the rest of the dorm.

"Higgins!" Mr. Kloppman, the boys supervisor called. "Into bed this instant!" 

"Ah, comon Kloppman." The short boy called back, laughter mingled in his voice. "I was just jokin'!" 

"Enough of your jokes! Into bed!"

"Yes sir." He replied. A door somewhere slammed. A few more slammed after, and another burst of laughter, amidst Kloppman's yells.

Jack smirked as he kicked off his shoes and pulled the covers up to his head. None of these boys had learned that if you respected the rules, it was easier to break them later. Or currently. The door shifted open, and Kloppman's beady black eyes appeared.

"Kelly." He barked. "You got yer uniform yet?"

"No sir."

"You get it tamorrow morning, you hear?"

"Yes sir."

"Good boy." He slammed the door, and Jack couldn't help but grin. A few moments later, he could hear the same conversation, but with Dutchy. The door smashed closed as well, and he sat up immediately, pushing his shoes onto his feet again. Then he crawled to the window and stuck his face out the side, waiting. Dutchy finally appeared, a mischievous grin on his face.

"Hi Kelly." He mouthed.

"Comon." Jack mouthed back, motioning to the vines that crawled up each side, which Chaos had used to escape. Dutchy glanced at them nervously. It was well known that Dutchy's only flaw was the fact that he was incredibly afraid of heights. But he bravely grabbed onto one of the vines and swung his leg over the side of the window.

Jack did the same, and for the next five minutes, concentrated only on scaling down the side of the building. He was a little nervous about reaching the ground and having to walk past the girls dorm to escape. After all the emphasis he had put on staying inside and not going out late at night, he'd hate for them to see him, even though he had to be out. He couldn't explain without getting all his co-workers in trouble. But seeing him wandering around in the twilight wouldn't be good for an example. 

He finally dropped to the ground, silent as a cat, and waited for Dutchy, who was being so incredibly careful that it drove him mad. Bumlets joined him, and they watched him finally stumble off the vine and hit the ground. He rolled over and was on his feet instantly again, nervous sweat all over his face. He wiped his forehead and breathed out. They exchanged smirks, and silently waited for Chaos.

She appeared, dressed all in black, Jack's clothing, and pulled her weapon out of her pocket.

"What are we waiting for?" She asked. The four adolescents made their way around the girls dorm to the gap in the fence.

+ 

"Pass it to me. Quick. This burns." Shade begged. Misprint hastily gave her the towel, and she clamped it over her head. Her hair was decidedly darker, almost a purple-black, and an empty die container was perched on the purple-stained sink.

"It looks awesome." Misprint assured her.

"It ain't even dry yet."

"But it still does." Shade pulled the towel away and both could see the huge, grape-coloured stain that looked as though someone had melted a Popsicle on the soft, furry whiteness of the cloth. Shade grabbed a brush and started running it through her damp hair, grinning at the fact that her fingers were no longer colouring along with it. Misprint quickly passed her the hair dryer, and watched as her friends wet hair slowly dried into a mass of curls, that straightened as they reached her chin. She finally flipped her head upwards, and her hair flew out over it, then flopped over her shoulders, framing her satisfied grin. It was so dark it was black, with flashes of purple where the light hit it. She turned and inspected it in the small mirror that every dorm had.

"I told you."

"It really don't look too bad, does it?" She grinned. Then she grabbed the straightener she had saved up to buy, and started running her hair through it. Misprint left then, to grab her gel. This night, her hair would be spikier than ever before.

Shade had dressed her up for the occasion, even though Misprint had fought terrifically. But now she stood, wearing black, vinyl pants that felt like a second skin, and a black tank top that would usually be unexciting, except for the fact that between the straps of this one stretched a piece of fishnet. She had faint, gloomy shades of eye shadow around her clear blue eyes, making them seem bigger, and brighter. Then, this being her own idea, she had taken tiny stick-on diamonds and put one a few centimetres below one eye, and then a few centimetres more down below her other eye. When she turned her head and they caught the light, they looked like crystal tears slowly trailing down her face.

Shade, when she was done straightening her hair, parted it in the center and let it fall before her shoulders, instead of tying it back in the braid that she usually wore. She sported a long, tight fish net top with a black tank top over it, letting her belly button diamond show, and bell bottom jeans. The hemp necklaces were gone, and in their place, spiked bracelets. Then, as an afterthought, she drew a line going down from the bottom of her eye, and up from the top, like The Crow. 

She left in time to see Misprint poking at her leathery looking pants.

"I can't believe you talked me into this." She moaned, used to the boxers and baggy jeans that she wore whenever she got the chance.

"You look fabulous." Shade rolled her eyes. Misprint glanced over at her friend. It was amazing how much a different hair colour and a change of texture could make someone look so different. But it was still Shade's deep brown staring cynically from her face.

"So do you." She returned the compliment. "Now comon. Let's go."

The two girls climbed up to the window and, as quietly as possible, jarred it open. Mrs. Mayen, the girls supervisor, had already been around to check they were all in bed. Now, at 10:30, they were finally able to escape. 

"Maybe we shouldn't." Misprint smirked, as she climbed out onto the ledge. "It's dark." Shade giggled, and climbed next to her. The ground blurred below them, three stories away. Hastily, Misprint grabbed onto the window ledge at the top and started climbing along side the row of windows, on her way to the fire escape. Shade felt her stomach clench as she grabbed onto the same ledge. This was definitely the most dangerous part of the operation. The climb. If they slipped or lost their balance, it was a long way down. Sometimes, the night had been so slick with rainwater, that Shade had almost toppled to the ground. She was extra careful about these things now.

Finally, Misprint reached the fire escape and clenched the railing with both hands, before swinging herself up onto the platform. Then she turned around to help Shade. As Shade slid over the railing, they both sighed in relief.

"Thank God that's ova." Misprint grinned. Shade did too, but then it slid off her face immediately.

"Shh!" She hissed suddenly, straining her ears. Misprint froze. If they were caught now, like this, it would mean the end of the world, or at least suspension. Possibly an expulsion. Not that they wouldn't be happy, not having to go to school, but the boarding school was an orphanage as well, and without it, they'd have no place to stay. They hastily ducked into the shadows, and watched as four figures crept across the small grassy area before the girls dorm.

"Hey! It's Jack!" Shade whispered suddenly, darting forwards. Misprint followed slowly. "And Chaos, and Bumlets!"

"Whadda they doing out? It's dark!" Misprint said, then she clapped a hand over her mouth before she could laugh. 

"Be serious." Shade snapped. Misprint put on a mock offended face.

"I'm serious." She sounded like a five year old. Shade rolled her eyes, and watched in incredibility as they left through the gap in the fence that Misprint and Shade used as their escape route too.

"I don't believe that jerk." Misprint said, still smirking. "All that emphasis about not going out after dark. Look at those asses!" 

"Jack's was particularily nice." Shade said wistfully. She was certain to duck the swing that Misprint sent her way. 

The girls climbed down the fire escape, praying it didn't choose to collapse on them. Their hands were clasped tightly, and a great amount of tension lifted from their shoulders as they jumped to the ground.

"Some day, we're gonna be killed, sneaking out like this." Misprint commented. "And _not_ by Ms. Mayen." Shade shrugged.

"Any where would be better than here." She said. This somewhat depressed Misprint, and they slowly started walking towards the gap in the fence in silence.

Their silence, however, slowly started wearing off as they reached Avenue A. Lights and cheers were surrounding it like a cigarette cloud. The smell of nicotine and alcohol was as repugnant as anything, but strangely appealing at the same time. Shade closed her eyes.

"I wonder if they have tequila…" She said softly. Misprint laughed and grabbed her elbow. "Comon!" She said, dragging her towards the club.

As they reached the entrance, they both simultaneously caught sight of the big security guard, checking off names and letting people in. Misprint's shoulders slumped in disappointment.

"Well, so much fa that." She said sadly. Shade rolled her eyes.

"Haven't you ever seen any teen movies? There's always a way." She muttered.

"What's that?"

"Comon!" She turned around and suddenly cut through the alley beside the club and the next building. Misprint raised an eyebrow, but hastily obeyed. The two of them emerged in the alley behind the club, and Misprint could have laughed out loud when she saw the door that was slightly ajar. Obviously, they weren't the only ones who had thought of the back.

"Why don't they have people back here?" Misprint asked in wonder as they darted towards it. Shade shrugged.

"It's opening night. Things are slack." Shade shrugged. Then she wrenched the door open the entire way.

The music and lights took Misprint so fast, it was unimaginable. The diamonds on her face glittered, and she immediately started bobbing her head in time. It was familiar, Papa Roach. She grinned in relief. No techno.

"I'm over at the bar." Shade said instantaneously. She was already on her way over.

"Ain'tcha gonna dance?" Misprint called.

"I don't dance!" Shade replied. Oh. Right. How could Misprint have forgotten? Maybe in the excitement of the evening. Shade rarely danced, actually, never at all. If anyone asked her to, she quickly declined and, if they were likeable enough, tempted them to sit with her with the help of tequila. 

Misprint, on the other hand, was a totally different story. Any time there was music, even if it was only in her head, she was forever swaying, tap dancing, or even just nodding her head to the beat. And this time, with the power chords blasting in her ears, she was ready to dance.

Some punk next to her with hair that was spiked a foot off his scalp had his head tipped sideways, and was holding a red container with a needle up to his neck, just below his ear. He injected it into his vein and his eyes fluttered close. He looked very dizzy. Misprint hastily shied away from him. She didn't like to be around people when they were getting high, they tended to freak her out. Instead, she made her way over the dance floor, burning inside with a fire.

Shade sat down and watched as a woman with bright red, curly hair turned around a smiled plastically at her.

"Hiya honey." She grinned. "Can I get you anythin'?"

"Shotta tequila." Shade said. "How much is it?"

"Hey, it's openin' night." The woman said, filling up a glass. "Don't cost a thing."

"Sweet." Shade remarked. She took the glass and downed it all in one shot. She wondered how long it would take for her to get too drunk, and spun around on her chair. She scanned over the club, and smiled at all the dancers. Misprint had often told her how much she was missing by just sitting by the sides, but Shade could see no point in going up and making a fool of herself. Of course, it was usually a lot more interesting if they had a live band. Instead, they had a large, muscular DJ with dread locks and a goatee leaning back flipping through a magazine, waiting for the song to end. She was glad that he wasn't going crazy with the records and making that weird scratching noise most seemed addicted to. There was nothing more annoying.

She turned back to find that her glass had been refilled for her. She grinned. Free drinks on opening night. She'd teach them not to be that silly again.

As she was turning around, she noticed two tall figures that immediately caught her attention. Squinting through the haze of coloured spot lights, she suddenly recognised who they were and spun back to her tequila so fast, she was worried she had left her vision behind, and it was slowly spinning to catch up with her. She took a sip of her tequila. It was Jack and Bumlets.

So they had been right. They were two of the four that had escaped that night. But what were they doing here? They didn't seem like the dancing, or even sitting down at the bar and drinking themselves drunk kind. Even as she glanced over her shoulder, she saw them against the wall, silently watching all of the dancers.

Part of her wanted to go over and talk to him. She was kind of angry that he had thought of her as a small girl. Don't go out after dark. The hypocrite. She wanted to go show him that she was big enough to take care of herself, didn't care what he thought, didn't care that he had told her to stay at the tenement. But something restrained her. She remembered the connection they had in Mrs. Orrello's class, and didn't want to sever that by annoying him. If she talked to him now, she wouldn't talk to him again. Choosing the opposite, she decided to remain seated. She was no longer a curly brunette in school uniform, but a straight dark haired chick in fishnet and black. She doubted he'd recognise her.

To Misprint's annoyance, just as she reached the mosh pit situated rather illogically in the press of thousands of people who didn't want to jump, but just stand there, the song dissolved into nothingness. She sighed in disappointment as the pit promptly disbanded, except for two drunk, muscular guys, screaming and shoving each other. She rolled her eyes. Sometimes men could be so idiotic.

To her delight, a familiar song started playing. A jazzy high hat rhythm filled the club, along with a mysterious man's voice blaring out "who is this irresistible creature who has an insatiable love for the dead?" it asked, sounding like a 60's horror movie. Sudden power chords blazed through the air, and thousands cheered, including Misprint. She began dancing, letting her limbs fly free, aware of some staring at her. So she wasn't the master of hip hop, the way she danced made her feel good, made her feel free. 

__

Rage in the cage 

And piss upon the stage 

Only one sure way 

To bring the giant down 

Defunct the strings 

Of cemetary things 

With one flat foot 

On the devil's wing 

At one point, as she whirled around in the middle of her dance, she caught the image of a figure at the side of the club staring at her, with eyes that flamed, melting the colours of the spotlights, then cutting through the ashes to burn through her stomach. She self consciously moved back, accidentally bumping into one girl with a beer bottle in her hand, swinging it about wildly. When she turned to glance at the interference, Misprint noted the long scar down the side of her face. 

She hastily looked back to see what the stranger was doing, but he had disappeared, as easily as the spot lights that flipped on and off.

__

Raping the geek

And hustling the freak

Like a hunchback juice

On a sentimental noose

Operation filth

They love to love the wealth

Of an S.S. whore making scary sounds

Letting him slip into the back of her memory, she suddenly found herself smack dab in the center of an immense mosh pit. Grinning, she started jumping up and down too, feeling the density and weight of the thirty people around her move her almost effortlessly. She loved the feeling of the heads all moving at the same time, the feeling of all of them falling and rising, feet hitting the floor at the same time. She twisted around to see if she could pick out Shade, but there were too many people to see past, too many people to move. The third verse of the song started up, but she was too busy moshing to actually listen to the words that she already knew so well anyways.

She screamed along with everyone else, and exchanged grins with one of the girls that turned around. She had dull brown hair and eyes, and it took Misprint a moment to realise her arm was clasped tight to her stomach, in a sling. She raised her eyebrows, but smiled wider. It seemed you get everyone in clubs.

The song ended and she stopped jumping, watching as the dancers around her slowly spread out. She panted, trying desperately to catch her breath. She had been moving throughout the entire song, but adrenaline and energy pierced through her like needles. She grinned and straightened, already prepared for the next song. 

__

Bound by the time on the clock

Bittersweet wondering the quiet transfusion

Hold tight nothing is complicated

Hold tight everything's fine

Confidence fell through the hole in your pocket

The simple's illogical so it be logic

I'm caught in the diaries with all your complaining

The curious scribblings of one who has everything

Leave me unholy and dirty and beautiful be

Unholy and dirty and beautiful

Misprint's grin only widened when she realised it was David Usher. How could Shade not dance? This club had some of the best music, not like the repetitive drum beat and synthetic beeps and sounds like most. Her feet felt like they were pounding into the floor as she danced, letting the music take over her body.

She spun around on one toe and suddenly stopped as she felt arms on either side of her. She twisted around in the grip and found she was staring at the same eyes that had cut through the air during "Living Dead Girl." Crystalline green-blue-grey iris's slashed at hers, while the hands tightened on her waist. The tan coloured skin around his eyes and the dark hair that flopped in front of his face only made the colour stand out more. She hastily tried to back up, but he only pulled her closer. His gaze was so captivating, it took her a moment to realise that he was swaying her softly in time to the music.

__

Cherish the lies that you bought

Charming delusions gone crack in the fire

I know we might be mediocre

I know nothing's on fire

Confidence fell through the hole in your pocket

The simple's illogical so it be logic

I'm caught in the diaries with all your complaining

The curious scribblings of one who has everything

Leave me unholy and dirty and beautiful be

Unholy and dirty and beautiful me

Unholy and dirty and beautiful

Beautiful, beautiful

Unholy and dirty

If Misprint had one rule, it was that she did not dance with guys. She didn't even dance with anyone. When it came to music, she always came alone, a solo dancer. So when he started moving her in time to the beat, she rammed the heel of her hand into his forearms, making his arms flop to his sides.

"Jesus." He smirked. She rolled her eyes and turned to walk away, but he grabbed her wrists and pulled her back. She was irked by the insistence of his ways. Probably some guy high on nuke, ready for a fight. She made eye contact with him, paused, and pulled away again. 

"Leave me alone!" She yelled, backing up. He reached out, and his fingers clenched around her wrists again, and with a smirk, he pulled her towards him, against his chest. She was painfully aware of how close their faces were to each other. 

"Dance with me." He whispered. She was astounded she could hear it, even though the music was louder than she had ever heard it before, the order in his voice was audible, even though it was nothing but a hiss. In fact, some people dancing close by glanced over their shoulders, as though he had yelled it over a microphone.

"No." She yelled back. "I don't dance." He didn't answer, but in the sudden glare he gave her, she felt as though a hand had clamped around her brain, then started gently guiding her thoughts. She blinked a couple times, and the tiny connection was broken, but something was wrong with her mind. He let go of her wrists and encircled her waist with his scrawny, yet muscular arms and pulled her, if humanly possible, closer. This time, she placed her hands on his shoulders.

__

You can give a try

Average to sustain

You can give a see

You can give a stay

Everything's to the feel

As the years go by

Listen to the tide

You can make a stride

Never come again

Never come again

Never come again

Shade, on her fifth shot of tequila, was already a little dizzy, and had to blink a couple times to clear her vision whenever she looked anywhere. And this time, she wasn't sure if she was actually seeing what she was seeing, or if it was the alcohol. She looked at the rest of the dancers. They seemed normal, or as normal as a crowd of Goths and punks could humanly be, so maybe she wasn't as buzzed as she thought. But when she looked back at Misprint, she was still dancing with the guy.

Not that it was a bad thing. The strange boy was pretty good looking, with the dark brown hair and gold skin, and the bright blue diamond eyes that were too light for his face. He wasn't insanely muscular, but not scrawny either. And judging from the way his shirt was stretched across his chest, pretty strong. 

Just the image of him and Misprint together was strange. How many times had she bugged Misprint about dismissing the boys who had flirted with her on their nights out? How many times had Misprint sneered when Shade eagerly copied down a guys number, or gave hers out? How many times had Misprint smirked and said "Yer crazy", whenever Shade had urged her to do the same? 

"I'm a lone wolf." She had said once, her unusually coloured eyes glinting. "Ain't no boy gonna tie me down."

"Well, if you ain't into bondage, that's a good thing." Shade had remarked. That's when Misprint had creamed her with the pillow. 

She glanced up at Jack again and saw that he was still scanning the floor, and conversing softly with the boy beside him. She groaned, and downed her sixth shot. She was going to talk to him. She didn't care if the alcohol was affecting her decision, she only wanted to go talk to him. Maybe point out Misprint, let him in on the inside joke, and why she found it so hilarious. As she hopped down from the stool and swayed a little dizzily on her feet, she caught sight of his partners eyes catching on something, and looked back with interest as he hastily elbowed Jack in the ribs. Jack followed his line of sight, and his jaw tightened with anger. Then, pulling something from his pocket, the two made their way towards it.

Shade was about to follow when someone strode past her, knocking her shoulder, and sending her tumbling back against the bar.

"You okay there, honey?" She heard the barmaid ask. She nodded, not trusting her tequila logged voice, and straightened again, watching the room spin. Maybe she had consumed enough tequila for tonight, she thought drunkenly. When she looked up again, Jack was gone.

So were Misprint and the boy with the beautiful eyes.

Misprint wasn't exactly sure what was going on when he pulled her outside. She remembered dancing a foot away from him, letting herself go completely crazy, when he had suddenly grabbed her wrist.

"You wanna get outta heah?" he had asked. She was already rather drunk on the music and light, and only blinked at him.

"What?"

"Ya wanna go outside or something?"

"What?" She had yelled. He had sighed, glanced up at something beyond her shoulder, then taken her face in both hands and pulled it towards him. He had leaned over and whispered in her ear, his cold breath making her shake.

"You wanna get outta here?"

"Where?" She had whispered back, but he already had his arm around her waist and was pulling he off the floor, with some kind of supernatural strength. Once more, he glanced up at something, before returning his gaze to the door near the back.

__

Leave me unholy and dirty and beautiful be

Unholy and dirty and beautiful me

Unholy and dirty and beautiful

Never come again

Never come again

Never come again

Never come again...

Misprint had caught sight of the boy who had injected himself with Nuke when they first came in. He was collapsed on the floor, his eyes closed tightly, and his breath drawing in and out of him with difficulty. She had drawn in her own breath, then allowed herself to be led out into the back alley. 

She laughed softly as he pushed her up against the wall, helping her regain her balance and her mind from the club. 

"Good music." She said vaguely, still giggling. Her brain finally pulled itself away from the music of the club and suddenly realised the intensity of the situation. His hands were on her arms and his feet planted firmly in front of hers, pushing them back against the brick. They were farther apart than they had been in the club, but the distance, now, was a lot less comfortable for her. He smirked at her, the hair from that hung before his face brushing hers slightly. 

"What's your name?" He asked softly, tipping his head one way. She swallowed.

"Faith." She whispered. Then she cleared her throat. "But no one calls me that."

"Whadda they call you?" He asked his eyes fastened on her throat. 

"Misprint." She said, feeling as though speaking was some kind of exhausting, difficult task. She tried to breathe normally. She felt sweat break out on her palms. "Whadda they call you?" She said finally.

"A lotta things." He said, tilting his head the other way.

"Name one." She replied. He smirked.

"Conlon. Spot Conlon." 

Spot? It was original, Misprint could grant him that. But lately…Chaos? Bumlets? Another strange name didn't matter. Anyways, she got the feeling that even though he asked her name, he didn't care. It wouldn't surprise her.

He suddenly leaned in and hovered near her neck, as though he was going to kiss her, but remained an inch away from the skin. She stared tersely at the other end of the alley. He breathed in deeply, let his face travel from her neck, to her collarbone, up her throat, to her lips, as though he was smelling the very scent of her skin and blood. 

"Whaddaya doin'?" She asked fearfully. 

"Shh…" He opened his eyes and pressed a finger against her glossed mouth. His finger then moved to her eyelids, which he slowly pushed down, until she shut her eyes. But the minute his touch disappeared, she opened her eyes again. He smirked, and suddenly shifted closer, pinning her. She felt distinctly uncomfortable, but couldn't move. Like something was controlling her brain. But she could feel it weakening, losing power over her thoughts.

His face tilted towards hers, and suddenly, his cool lips hit hers gently, driving out everything in her mind. She instinctively drew in breath, and let the kisses come, his lips smashing against hers. She vaguely wondered why she wasn't Shade. It seemed she was always the one who was able to get with a guy, or ended up kissing him, while Misprint rolled her eyes, highly annoyed, stood off to the side. But now, here she was, with this mysterious strangers lips tight on hers.

All feelings of stopping this flew from her brain as his thumbs gently stroked the skin on her arms, and then left to trail up and down her rib cage. She wrapped her arms around his neck and impulsively pulled him closer. Every now and then, her lips hit something sharp, something smooth and hard. His teeth, she guessed. But she didn't know teeth could be that long. With a small cry, she jerked her head backwards and it hit the brick. Something had pierced her lip, leaving a small indent, in which blood was rapidly pooling. She breathed in to say something, but he was on her again, closing her mouth for her. There it was again. The control on her mind, powerful. Stronger than before. She bent her arms more, pulling him in, and realised that he was sucking the blood from her lip, biting at it. Every second brought more pain as his teeth dug deeper into the flesh.

Just as she was about to pull away again, he finally left her mouth and kissed a trail along her cheekbone. She hastily ran her tongue over the insides of her lip, and grimaced at the torn, bleeding skin. A small part of her brain thought 'what the hell was that?' but the other part just wanted more of his touch. His hands were firm on her rib cage, his knees pressed against hers. Her mouth parted slightly, and a small drop of blood fell onto her bottom lip. He finally returned his mouth to her and kissed her, before burying his face in her neck.

She half smiled and let her face rise as he kissed her pulse, and moved slowly around to the side. His lips were still cool, despite the heat of her throat, and she wasn't surprised when it registered that his fingers were icy as well. With one hand, she played with a strand of his hair. Her eyes instinctively closed.

It seemed like an eternity, she with her back against the wall, his lips against her skin. She had no idea that her first kiss would be this crazy, and was already feeling overwhelmed when it happened.

A sudden rush of breath on her throat made her realised he was opening his mouth. Her eyes fluttered open as she felt his bottom teeth hit the skin. 

"What…" She muttered. But before she could get another word out, she felt two twin punctures stab past her skin and into the flesh of her throat. Her eyes widened and she let out a scream that twisted through the night, but was heard by no one. He moved his teeth slightly, letting the warm red blood from her neck pour into his mouth. She grabbed the back of his hair and yanked viciously, successfully pulling his head back.

"What the hell are you doing?" She yelled. He only laughed and grinned at her, the red on his teeth shining on his fangs. 

His fangs?

'This isn't happening.' She thought frantically. 

"Whassa matter?" He grinned, leaning towards her again as she tried to fend him off. She tried to lift her leg to kick at his shins, but it was stapled firmly to the wall by his own. He grabbed the side of her face and wrenched her head sideways. She could feel the sticky blood from the wound run down her neck, and spread over the fishnet. With a hoarse cry, she pushed her head from the wall and smashed it into his. His head snapped back, but then he straightened and was immediately ready. 

"Whassa matter, Misprint?" He repeated. She realised her arms were still around him, and encircled his throat with her fingers and dug her nails against the cool skin. He laughed, then slammed his fist into her gut, causing her fingers to weaken considerably. "I'm impressed." He smirked. "But I still am hungry." A smirk lifted the corners of his lips. "Jus' relax." With that, he leaned in and licked some of the blood from her skin.

"Fuck." She hissed. The curse escalated into a scream, and another, and another. He suddenly pulled away.

"Shaddup." He hissed. She kept screaming, hoping to god someone would hear. "I said shaddup!" He slammed a hand against her mouth, choking off the screams, and went back to her throat, and placed his lips over the wound, draining the blood from the puncture, as though it was wine. She tried to scream again, but with his aberrant energy, it was as though he had clamped a cloth soaked with chloroform over her lips. She felt herself getting dizzy as the blood left her, and blinked a couple times, trying desperately to clear her vision. Vampire. He was a vampire. Or she was going crazy. Either one she was willing to believe.

The thoughts that had so frequently crowded into her brain the past few minutes started to slowly dissipate, stretching themselves thin, as he drew blood from her. She closed her eyes and groaned softly, then fought to keep them open. The sounds of the club, the streets, and Spot, blurred in her mind. 

"Get offa her, you fuck." Shade said.

+

Which chapter is this again? Oh sweet, it's the raunchy one. 

On that note: Sorry, no shout outs. As a matter of fact, no shout outs for a long, long time. Shade and I have resolved to stop doing them, because it slows us down something awful. We're hardly ever online to do them at the same time, and whenever we are, it's inevitable that fanfiction.net isn't working. 

On the bright side? Faster updates. Much, much faster. Once the new chapters start coming in, we promise to start vocalizing our gratitude. But in the meantime? More reading, less…gratification?

Alright, my foot is now firmly in my mouth. 'Scuse me, will you? I'm going to read over this chapter again. It's hot.

-Misprint


	4. four

****

Four

Spot pulled away, and Misprint slumped to the ground, blood still running from the wound in her neck, her eyes wide. Shade swayed slowly, and had to press a hand to the wall to stop herself from falling over. The past few minutes had impacted her so quickly, it seemed as though they would leak from her eyes and ears and cover her in strange memories. She had walked over to the back of the club, stumbling slightly, and remembered seeing Jack and Bumlets searching desperately through the dance floor.

'Jack' she had thought. 'That's what I was going to do. Go talk to Jack.' But sudden, dim sounding screams had wormed their way through the music and to her ears. She paused, and realised who was screaming. Misprint. She had whirled around frantically, remembering her friend and the strange boy. Of all the boys to have a first dance with…

She had spotted Jack and wondered if she was imagining the screams. She hoped she had. She hadn't wanted to find Misprint had been hurt. She had only wanted to talk with Jack. But then had heard her friends voice. "What the hell are you doing?" She knew she was in trouble. So, Shade began making her way, past one incessant crowd of druggies, to the side door. 

Spot straightened, and when he saw her, his eyes flashed, as though he was thinking of something that affected him powerfully. But the moment Shade noticed, he dropped the look, and quickly assumed a cynical smirk. Misprint's eyes were half closed, as she slumped against the garbage can at his feet.

"What the hell did you do to her?" Shade asked. Spot nonchalantly looked over his shoulder at Misprint.

"Well, since you interrupted, nothing too serious." He remarked.

"You…" She tried to get the rest of her sentence out, but it became stuck in her throat and she had to blink a few times to clear her vision. Spot smirked.

"What? Whadda ya gonna do? Hurt me?" He asked sarcastically. "I'm shaking." He walked towards her. "So comon. Take a swing at me."

"Get away." She hissed, slowly stumbling backwards.

"Comon."

"Misprint!" Shade tried to dodge the vampire and run to her friend, but he caught her elbow and gripped her forearms. With a smirk, he pulled her towards him. Her head lolled backwards.

"You girls are just so easy." He grinned.

"No!" She yelled. She struggled, trying to get to Misprint, so she could grab her and run, but her legs weren't connected to her brain. Weren't working. Numb. "Lemme go!"

"Make me! Comon, girly. I've drunk my fill. It'd be nice to have some entertainments."

"Fuck you!" She swung her fist into his gut, but it didn't faze him in the least. In fact, he laughed. Then he threw her down onto the cobblestone of the alley. She cried out as her head cracked against the cement, and black dotted her vision. Through the haze, she could see him rooting around in his pocket, and pulling out a clear plastic book of something. He pulled out a smaller container and opened it, a somewhat regretful expression on his face. Then he straddled her stomach and looked at whatever it was in his hands. Shade's sight was too obscure to see what exactly it was.

"Sorry bout this." He said, twisting off the top of some small red packet. Nuke. 

"No…" She pleaded.

"It's just so much _fun_ to see them stagger around after this. I mean…" He wrenched her head aside. "I know your drunk, but…" He smirked. "This just enhances the flavour."

"Don't!" She yelled, as he aimed the needle at a vein near the top of her neck. 

"This'll just make it more interesting." He suddenly plunged the needle into the flesh of her neck and squeezed.

She closed her eyes as the impending blackness threatened to close in on her. She could feel the cool substance in her blood, and her neck stiffened, making the needle push against the vein, making it only more painful. She could hear Spot's voice in her head.

"Relax. It'll hoit less. Didn't no one ever tell you that when you was gettin' a shot?"

"Don't…" her eyes flew open as Spot rolled off of her. She sat up, a finger to the small syringe hole in her neck. The packet of Nuke fell to the ground, a quarter empty. She looked over, and saw Spot lying on the ground, his hands around someone's neck. A figure in black. Strong arms. Blonde hair that was slicked back, but now falling over the forehead. She let out a breath and pushed her fingers against the hole, making some of the drug squeeze back out. Already her head was pounding, and things were changing different colours.

Bumlets rushed over to Misprint and pressed something to the bite on her neck. Then he wrapped it around her entire throat, like a cast.

"Can you see me?" He asked softly. Misprint cleared the fogginess from her brain in time to see Bumlet's concerned brown eyes in front of hers. Behind him sat Shade, finger to her neck, and Jack. On top of Spot. Fighting. But this was too much for her, and she closed her eyes. "Just stay there." Bumlets whispered. "If someone tries to take you away, you start screamin'."

"Uh huh." She whispered. She couldn't tilt her head, afraid it would fall off. Bumlets left her, and she felt like sobbing. But she didn't. Her two rules. No dancing with guys, and no crying. Oh yeah, now she had another one. No necking with vampires. 

Spot was able to roll on top of Jack, and felt like laughing as he recognised the boy. Jack was an infamous slayer, at least in New York, anyways. Spot pushed down on his hands, choking off the boys air. Jack went pale under the tan, and his eyes went blurry. Spot saw this, and smirked. Imagine that. Surprised that it had been that easy, he pushed harder. Humans were so pathetic, there were so many ways to kill them. But the only two ways to kill a vampire…

Spot cried out as something slashed across his back. He rolled off and smashed into a garbage can, then dragged himself to his feet, feeling a wave of cool blood soak his back. When he looked up, he saw Jack sitting up, and Bumlets standing, with a bloody knife in his hand.

"Too bad he's a squirmer." Bumlets commented to Jack, as the blonde boy stood up and pulled a stake from his pocket. Bumlets smirked. "I could've got his head, if he wasn't." Jack glanced over at Bumlets. Then, stake raised, he lunged towards Spot and swung the weapon towards his chest.

There was a split second where the wood punctured the iced skin of the vampire, then it ran through air and hit the wall, smashing the point to a dulled end. Jack's eyes shifted, then he looked down, and around him.

"Where'd he go?" He asked softly. Bumlets sighed, and put the blade back in its holster.

"Conlon's an incredibly powerful one, Jack." He said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Wouldn't surprise me if he did know how to transport." Jack nodded, then threw the stake on the ground so hard it shattered. 

"Fuck." He hissed. He ran a hand through his hair. "I almost got him that time."

"Don't worry about it. You were just a li'l off. Probably because it was Conlon."

"No, it wasn't that." Jack said. He glanced at Shade. She was paler than usual, which was hard, considering the black hair and the natural pallor of her skin. But her eyes were going darker, and the finger was still against her neck, as though glued there. Jack looked up and glanced at Misprint.

"You take her." He said, tossing his head in the direction of the bitten girl. "I'll get Shade here."

"Where are we going?" Bumlets asked, going back to Misprint. She looked up at him fearfully, but he slowly crouched down. "S'okay, it's me." He whispered. She nodded.

"Back to the dorms." Jack replied, picking up Shade and wrapping an arm around her. "I think Conlon's done for tonight." 

+ 

__

Misprint found herself clad as she had been in the club, the only difference was that one of Shade's hemp necklaces ringed her neck. The red beads glinted like blood. A giant forest of oak trees surrounded her. The path she walked on was packed dirt, an oak leave skittered past her foot. She looked around puzzled. Ahead of her she could she Shade standing on the path, her friend turned back and laughed at her. With a grin Shade called out to Misprint;

"G'wan, he's waitin' for you." Shade darted into the forest and Misprint lost sight of her. With a shrug she continued down the path. Who was Shade talking about? Without waiting a moment Misprint knew the answer, the only who'd ever be waiting for her. Him, Conlon, the demon with the blue eyes. The path led her to her room. She entered slowly, the pure white room was pristine and clean. The sun rose in the sky and as the light came through the red curtains the room turned to a blood red. Misprint's white gown remained white however. When Spot's hand pulled her to him she didn't hesitate in dancing with him. The ceiling began to leak blood, the red liquid ran like rain to the ground. Misprint's dress became stained with the substance and Spot's eyes glinted with fire.

She stood on a cliff over looking a sea of blood, her blood, Shade's blood, Jack's blood, the blood of the thousands of Hunters that had come before.

"Misprint," a familiar voice called her back from the cliff, she turned lightly. Spot was chained to a monolithic cross, a pair of black pants barely hugged his waist. His arms stretched out along the arms of the cross. Blood rain ran down his chest and try as he might he could not catch a drop in his parched mouth. "Misprint, Faith, c'mere"

Slowly she made her way towards the starving vampire, even in is famished state he managed to look amazing. His blue eyes glinted. A woman with black cherry hair and a line drawn from the middle of her forehead, over her eyelid, to the middle of her cheek stared up at Misprint, her eyes were wide and dark a container of nuke was implanted in her neck.

"Come on, Mis." Spot called to her from down the marble hall. Her blood red ball gown glistened and she looked down at him, he was dressed stunningly in a black suit with a blood red satin shirt. Soft music played. "Do you like dancing?"

"Of course" Misprint laughed. She threw all caution to the wind, she was wild and free. He took her in his arms and the two spun around the dance floor.

"Aren't you afraid?"

"Of what, you? Of course not." She grinned.

He handed her a blood red rose. Smiling she took the rose, a thorn pricked her and a drop of blood welled out. She stared at it perplexed. Hesitantly he reached for her hand and with a look at her accepting face, gently lapped the blood from the wound.

+ 

"So. What's with you an' Jack?" Dutchy asked, as he ran the stake through the fifth vampire. Chaos shrugged, and glanced quickly behind her.

"Whaddaya mean?"

"You two are always at each other's throats." He replied. Chaos shrugged again, not particularly wanting to get onto the subject. She abhorred Jack, and he did the same. What was the point of talking it over? Hate was so satisfying. So easy to content yourself with. It was easier than love. The world needed it. 

"No comment?"

"No comment." She replied. A hand on her back made her spin around, stake ready. True to her vibes, there stood a tall black vampire, his fangs bared. Without hesitation, she rammed the stake through his chest, and watched as he exploded into dust. She knew Dutchy was watching.

"Way not to beat around the bush." He commented.

"Why should I run around beating him up and messing around when there are simpler ways?" She said simply. A sudden hiss made them both whirl around. Standing before them was a pale one, Asian, with curly black hair and an indifferent expression. Except for the fact that his fangs were glittering in the moonlight, he looked almost cute, Chaos speculated later. But, like Dutchy had prompted her to say, there was no point beating around the bush. She ran towards him and punched the stake into his chest, but then suddenly found he wasn't there. 

"What?" She muttered. Dutchy whirled around, but it was too late. He already received a quick punch to the face. The vampire stood in front of him, a rather smug expression on his lips and in his eyes.

"Wise guy, huh?" Dutchy muttered, drawing his stake. He swung it towards him, but again he was gone. 

"Fuck, this is the _last_ thing I'm in the mood for!" Chaos yelled, already fed up with Dutchy's prying questions about her and Jack. But, as though intent on irritating the both of them, he appeared in front of Chaos. She punched him in the gut, in the face, then spun around and smashed her shoe into his neck. He fell backward, slightly bruised, but grinning. Just for show, Chaos ran towards him, did a cartwheel, and came up, whirled around, and swung the stake towards him. In the nick of time, it disappeared again.

"You lousy bastard!" Chaos screamed. Dutchy made a slitting-throat noise with his finger.

"Shaddup, Chaos!"

"Fuck, Dutchy, this is _New York._ No one cares." She drew her blade and slowly turned around on the spot. Then she smirked. "Comon. I know you wanna fight. You gonna be a coward and just keep disappearing?" Her teasing worked. The vampire appeared, perched on a gate a little ways away. Chaos grinned, then shot towards him and swung the blade in a crescent moon shape in front of her, making it whistle through the air, and go straight for his neck. But, just as it penetrated the skin, he disappeared again. 

Dutchy quickly put his hands on Chaos's shoulders.

"He's just trying to get us all worked up." He said quickly, pushing her away from the site. "No use in getting all in a huff."

"I need to kill something." Muttered Chaos grumpily.

+ 

Shade leaned happily against Jack's shoulder as he half carried her back to the dorm. Her heart was pounding faster than usual, but it wasn't because of the fact that she was close to him.

"You're lucky he only got you with a quarter of this stuff." He had said grimly, when he found it the package of Nuke next to her. "Maybe you'll pull through."

"'Magin' that." She had replied sleepily, her eyes unfocused. He had glanced over at her, and sighed. Now he was trying his best to walk her back to the school, but she kept stumbling, and one time going down on her knees, pulling him with her. "Sorry," she had murmured supinely. "Drugs bad."

"Yeah, I'm glad you noticed that." He had muttered distractedly. She had giggled, and he was forced to lift her up on his back and carry her. Her head rocked against his back, and at one point, she breathed in deeply.

"You smell nice." She had drawled.

"What?"

"You heard me."

"Yeah. I guess." She was quiet for the rest of the way.

Bumlets was having trouble with Misprint, not because she was talking, or not walking properly, but the fact that she wasn't talking. Her blue eyes were wide and staring, cutting through the darkness. He wrapped an arm around to her to steady her, and she didn't even twitch. The blood had long since soaked through the bandage, but it was the only material Bumlets had been able to supply at the moment. So he placed his hand over the soaked cotton and pressed gently. This was the only time she reacted.

"Don't." She had said sharply, craning her neck sideways, then twitching in pain.

"Just relax."

"That's what Spot told me." Misprint said vaguely. Then she slumped against his side, her legs feeling weak underneath her.

"Comon. You lost a lotta blood tonight. Jus' comon." He said, glancing around. The last thing he wanted was people to notice what was going on. Both Jack and Bumlets kept a tight lookout for vampires. Now would be an ideal time for them to strike. If they were able to keep the two slayers busy, the girls would be a free feast. There was no way they'd be able to fight back in their conditions.

They finally reached the two tenements, and Jack and Bumlets paused. Jack lowered Shade onto the ground. Her eyes contracted suddenly, and she gripped onto his arm. He placed a hand over hers.

"Don't worry. I'm right here." He whispered. Then he turned to Bumlets. "What are we going to do?"

"We can't exactly escort them to their dorms. Ms. Mayen would report us. Both me and Dutchy have room mates. Y'know…" he trailed off. "Anthony." Bumlets had been relegated to a room where he had to share with the boy. "I don't think he'd take well to the fact that there are two dazed girls in our room. Or maybe he'd take too well." He added ominously. 

"They can sleep in mine, then." Said Jack, resigned. 

"Sweet." Shade grinned. The two boys glanced at her edgily, then back at Misprint. She was staring down the street, a horrible, frightened look in her eyes. Bumlets squeezed her tighter.

"Comon then. Quickly." He said softly. "We got to get them both to sleep."

+ 

__

Shade stood on the top of a vibrant orange mushroom. All around her the blades of grass extended to the heavens, said grass contrasted violently with the orange mushroom due to the fact that it was a neon violet. Shade's eyes burned at the bright contrasts. Dizzying music swirled through her brain, she felt like she was flying, though her feet were firmly planted on the mushroom. In front of her giant blue eyes shimmered. She giggled and Jack gently took her hand and led her through the forest of neon green bottles. He grinned at her and a flood of red liquid ran down the path. 

Shade stooped to drink from the new river. She was delirious with the new feelings. Jack sneered at her and the blue eyed demon ripped through his form to stand next to her. It smiled and held her head under the water. Blackness enveloped her senses. Shade was vaguely aware of floating in a sea that dampened all over her senses. She knew something terrible had happened but she couldn't remember what. The blue eyes continued to shine in her mind.

The next thing Shade knew she was standing all alone is a blank white world. A bitter wind bit through her thin clothing, freezing the marrow in her bones. Her skin tightened to unbearable heights and she fell to the ground screaming and feeling the tears in her eyes freeze into diamonds of her pain. Suddenly the ground beneath her was sandy and burned her body. She sprang to her feet but every where her skin made contact with any thing, clothing, hair, other limbs, it burned . even having her lips closed pained her beyond coherent thought patterns. She tore hair from her scalp the pain of this action mild in comparison to the burning along her body. Shade shredded her clothes and sobbed the tears like acid down her cheeks. All through her physical torment violent jarring sounds drilled through her mind, harshly tearing her psyche to a million jagged pieces. A ways off Misprint reached out to the demon as he drew her to him. Shade screamed for her friend to run but the fire burned at her voice and turned the words to ash.

When Shade awoke the pain of her body was reduced to a pounding in her head and a dull ache in her throat. The terror of he dream receded to the back of her mind, stored for her next walk through dream land.

+ 

Shade sat up suddenly, the blankets clutched in her hands, her head pounding extremely painfully, and her throat dry and aching. She tucked her knees to her chest and buried her face in them, letting the soft smelling scent of the blanket take over her senses. But it didn't drive out the dullness and blankness that seemed to cover her, like a net. She shook her head slowly, then looked around her. She was in a dorm room that she was sure was not Misprint and her own…but there was Misprint, on the other side of the bed, her eyes clamped together so tight that it looked as though she was in pain. Shade sighed, and a lurking fear came when she realised that the burning sensation from her dream was dulled, but not fading. The terror of the sudden vision hit her, and she hugged her thin legs tighter to her chest and whimpered softly. Sweat was pouring down her face, and she was shaking violently, even though the room seemed humid and heated. 

"Mis…" She whispered. "Mis! Wake up!" But Misprint slept on.

+ 

Shade woke up the second time, and some of the panic from last night had worn off. But her pillow and hair were damp with sweat, and she was extremely cold. She trembled fiercely, and sat up suddenly. But the sudden, sharp pain that struck her between the eyes made her think her head had smashed into a stake. She let out a sudden cry, and before she could do anything else, she felt a warm weight on her legs, and saw Jack's face swing into view.

"Don't talk. Your okay." He said, lying her back down. She looked up at him and blushed. She couldn't exactly explain that she was not okay when he was leaning overtop of her, the hair from his head gently tickling her own forehead, but bit her lip and said nothing. He smirked softly as he trailed his finger over the small syringe hole in her throat, and she shut her eyes tight. The weight on her head grew steadily worse.

"Don't." She whispered. He sat back up, and then realised with embarrassment that he was straddling her. She took the time to notice, with unease, he was only wearing a pair of black jeans. With discomfiture, he hastily stumbled off of her, and went to lean over the side of the bed instead. She giggled, but the laugh quickly dissolved into a groan as she clasped a hand to her head. "It hoits."

"It's supposed to be. You were nuked." He said softly. Her eyes opened, and anger flashed in them.

"I was what?" She asked in disbelief, but the images were steadily flowing back to her. She ground her teeth together and tried to sit up, but he pushed her back down. 

"Nuked. We found the package next to you in the alley."

"I remember…" She said softly, shutting her eyes. "He was over me…he said something…he wanted to see me stagger around before…I dunno, he killed me I guess. But I don't remember anything else..."

"Nothing?"

"Nothing." She opened her eyes, revealing the scared, brown irises. "What happened?" She tried to sound casual, but was clearly afraid something else, far worse, had happened during the time she could not remember. It was as though her memories were all a chalk slate, or a black board, like the one Mrs. Orrello wrote on incessantly, but someone had taken it and wiped it completely clean, without even a trace of chalk left to at least figure out some of the details.

"Me and Bumlets carried the both of you back." He said, reaching over and wringing out a wet cloth. He shook it out a few times, before rolling it into a closely compacted strip, and laying it gently across her forehead. Usually, the cool sensation against her burning skin would have soothed her, but this time, it only added to the pressure that was building in her forehead. She shook her head and pushed it off, letting it flop gently to the pillow beside her. He sighed, picked it up, and wiped some of the sweat off her face, before tossing it back into the bowl of water.

"Why can't I remember anything?" She said, a slight whine in her tone. No one could really blame her. He stood, and started pacing, the muscles in his jaw clenched and angry.

"Nuke is a damn powerful drug." He said, as though it explained something. "You're lucky he only used a quarter. More might have killed you."

"But Misprint and I saw a guy use a whole package at the club." She said, confused. "It didn't kill 'em."

"Yeah, but he wasn't a new user. Or drunk." He looked at her sternly, and she knew the lecture on going out late and alcohol was close at hand. Trying to ward it off, she pressed her fingers to her temples and uttered a small moan. It wasn't entirely faked. Her nerves felt like puppet strings, jerking up and down, pulling her along with them. He hastily kneeled at her side again. "Enough talk. You're looking pretty pale."

"How long is this pain gonna take?" She asked sleepily.

"Probably three or four days. Or more."

"Oh great. Physical Education with double PMS." She groaned. Jack laughed shortly, but a new thought struck Shade suddenly, and she sat up so fast that it felt like the stake had been rammed into her forehead again.

"Misprint!" She said softly, noticing her unconscious friend for the first time. "What's the matter with her? Why is she still asleep?"

"She's nearly lost all her blood." He said, laying her back down again, gently and resigned. "She's going to have to rest a lot to gain it back." As though living to contradict, Misprint opened her eyes and sat up immediately. Shade could have screamed. The expression in her friends eyes reminded her of one of a fish, being reeled in, by something strong, strong and evil. Then she blinked, and the look disappeared, replaced by one of extreme opaqueness. As though a film was wrapped around her expression. Her gaze focused on the both of them.

"Gotta go." She mumbled, sounding as though her mouth was full of marbles. She swung her slender legs over the side of the bed and started walking towards the door.

"Misprint, where're you going?" Shade asked.

"Out." She replied sparsely. Jack, as though he knew something was going on, and comprehended what it was too, stood and said harshly;

"Misprint. Get back to bed."

"No." She snapped over her shoulder. "I gotta go."

"Where?" Shade asked again. 

"Misprint!" Jack ran at her, but she darted away from him and to the door. Shade stood with difficulty, the sweat on the back of her neck unbearable, and the quakes she was getting making it hard to regain her balance. She clutched the bedside table beside her to stop from falling. Something was horribly wrong. Misprint wasn't acting the way she usually did, it was as though she was being lead somewhere by something that the two others could not distinguish.

She shook of Jack's hand from her wrist and her fingers latched onto the door knob. She tried to twist it, but it only went a millimetre before it stopped. Hastily, almost desperately, she started rattling it back and forth. She leant over, her forehead almost touching the knob.

"Comon!" She said. Suddenly, the knob turned, but the door flew open before she could pull away in time. She fell backwards, her already half damaged head cracking against the floor, her eyes fluttering closed. Bumlets peeked in.

"What was that?" He asked incredulously. 

+ 

"What was the matter with her?" Shade asked, as Bumlets laid Misprint down on the bed. 

"I dunno." Jack said, running a hand through his hair. "I really ain't too sure. But odds are it has something to do with Spot Conlon."

"Who _is_ Conlon?" She asked. "Does he have a history with you guys or something?" Even saying his name brought on a violent bout of shivers. Bumlets glanced warily over at Jack, who returned the glance with something that was almost a glare, but more painful. 

"I'll explain." Bumlets said, affirming something. But Shade felt too sick to try and figure out what was going on, what they weren't telling her. It suddenly seemed to hot. She pushed the covers away, and rolled to a part of the bed that wasn't heated by her body. She wasn't surprised to see she was in her underwear. She had seen her clothes in a pile near the end. Misprint, too, was only in her undergarments. Shade didn't take the time to question them, or even make any wry comments. The perverse side of her was trodden down under the more serious side, as she struggled to work things out.

Just as Bumlets drew in a breath, the door smashed open and Chaos came in, almost crackling with energy. When she saw the two girls, sprawled across the bed in their underwear, she turned to Jack, an all knowing expression on her face.

"Perfect." She snapped. "Foist, you don't show me the letter, and then you compromise our identities for a little sex?"

"Chaos, it ain't like that." Bumlets said. She glanced over at him, then back at the two girls.

"Then would someone please explain? Because it sure looks like it."

"They were attacked." Jack said. Chaos's eyes flashed with something similar to sympathy, but Shade wasn't sure if it was actually pity, or if she was just catching the wrong signals. 

"By who?"

"Spot Conlon."

"Oh…" Chaos glanced edgily over at Jack, before looking over at them. "So they were both attacked?"

"Sorta. Misprint here…" he motioned to the spiky haired girl, still with the crystals glued to her face. "She got bitten, and almost drained, till Shade…" He gestured to Shade, but Chaos held up her hand.

"I a'ready know her."

"Until Shade stopped him. Spot nuked her, and almost finished her off before Bumlets and I got there." 

"Wow. Sounds like an exciting night." She remarked wryly. Then she cocked her head to one side. "And you wanna be gracious enough to give the ladies some clothes? I mean, sure they were almost killed, but you gotta give the girls their dignity." Rolling her eyes, she pulled of Jack's shirt, which had little bits of ash clinging to it, to reveal a small, navy blue tank top. She tossed it at Shade, who tried to pull it on, with much difficulty. Then she turned to Bumlets. "Dutchy's coming over in a second." 

"I remember you." Shade said suddenly to Chaos. "You're his sister."

"Nah. I ain't his sister." She replied calmly. She grabbed a sweat shirt from the side of Jack's bed and went over to Misprint, carefully avoiding the blood stained shirt that was lying on the floor, and pulled it over the unconscious girls head. "I jus' said that."

"Why?"

"So if you were going to be as _nosy_ as you were, the stuff you'd find out would be false." She replied simply. But not simple enough for Shade, in her current state. She closed her eyes and breathed out. Chaos glanced over at her. "Sorry. I talk too fast. And you've been nuked." She turned to Jack and Bumlets. "I'm sure glad I don't have them sleeping in _my_ dorm. You two are going to have a hell of a time getting them to shut up in the night." 

+ 

Kloppman looked up as the boy stumbled in, shaking the rainwater from his hair. He sighed and opened the registration book. It seemed there were so many more new kids these days, all arriving during various points in the first couple weeks. Another new one. Didn't matter much to him. But, as he studied the recent newcomer in more detail, he looked as though he had been chased somewhere, or had been escaping from somebody. He certainly looked harassed, with his tattered black shirt and jeans, that were ripped at the knee. He pushed his dirty blonde hair away from his face and slowly approached the old man.

"New student?" Kloppman asked. The boy nodded shortly. "A'right…I'll need your first and last name and age." He replied. The boy nodded. "Shoot." Kloppman said, pen poised over the forms.

"Seventeen." He said, in a soft voice. Kloppman had to strain his ears to hear properly. "Carter."

"Is dat yer first name?" Kloppman queried. The boy shook his head.

"Last name." He replied. "First name's Steph."

"Short fer anythin'?" Kloppman prompted. Steph hesitated, then nodded slowly.

"Stephen. Stephen Carter." 


	5. five

****

Five

"Heya. Jackie boy. Open up!" A voice said. Jack looked up from where he was sitting. 

"Shit!" He hissed. "It's Anthony."

"Don't let him in…" Bumlets cautioned, but, to both of their astonishment, Shade smiled shortly as the door swung open. The short, Italian boy strode in, a cocky grin on his face, but then stopped short when he saw Shade and Misprint draped over the bed, both looking worse for their money, Misprint passed out. Jack realised how bad it must look, and rubbed his arm. Bumlets was having a hard time concealing the smirk on his face.

"Whoa…" Anthony said, raising his hands and backing up slightly. "I was going to ask for the Science notes, but ah…if I'm interrupting something…"

"Don't be a prick, Racetrack." Shade groaned.

"Racetrack?" Bumlets asked. "I thought your name was Anthony."

"Ah, Racetrack's just a nick name. Shade, Misprint. Whaddaya doing with these bums?" He grinned, cajoling.

"Shut your face." Misprint muttered, her eyes barely twitching. Shade, Bumlets, Jack, Shade, and Anthony all turned to her, surprised.

"I thought she was still unconscious." Bumlets muttered.

"Hell, I thought she was dead!" Anthony exclaimed. Shade rolled her eyes and held out her hands to Jack. Jack willingly moved to the bed and pulled her up.

"Ah, fuck." She muttered, as the pain exploded in her head. 

"You wanna lie down again?"

"_No_." She snapped. Then she reached over and shoved Misprint's shoulder. "Misprint. Wake up. Racetrack's here." Misprint's eyes opened slightly. Shade grinned, despite the pain. She had known about the wild affection Misprint had held for the boy in grade two. She was never entirely sure if her friend had gotten over it, and even though she was suffering heavy withdrawal, and Misprint was still regaining blood, it would be amusing to see how her friend would react to lying in front of an ex-crush in her underwear and a sweatshirt. 

"Heya Race." She grinned.

"So…are you going to answer my question, or what?"

"Ah…" Shade glanced at Jack before saying. "An old fashioned slumber party, Race." She grinned winningly. "You know. Go over to a friends, stay up all night…"

"I'm sure you did." He raised his eyebrows. Misprint opened her eyes long enough to throw a pillow at him. Bumlets and Jack exchanged a look. Misprint was acting completely normal, so normal that Shade's excuse was almost believable. Misprint would act the same way if she had stayed up all night, and was tired, but feisty enough to cream someone with an article from a bed. 

"Oh, by the way." He said, scratching his hair. "There's some of your clothing over at my dorm. Y'know, from the last time you guys stayed over. You might need them…" He paused, then peered closer at the rumpled clothes she was wearing last night. "Mis, is that _blood_?"

"You know what Race?" Shade said abruptly. "Those jeans would be great. For the both of us. Thanks." Misprint nodded, hoping she wouldn't have to throw herself on top of the discarded, stained shirt to stop him from suspecting anything. Even though the fact that she would fling herself down at the floor in front of his feet would arouse a lot more suspicion in him than just a couple stains on a shirt. 

"Yeah, okay." He shrugged. He gave her a weird look, then walked out. "I'll be right back." Misprint nodded. A moment of silence passed as they listened to his footsteps down the hall. Then Bumlets hastily closed the door.

"I don't remember anything past the time he bit me." Misprint said solemnly. Shade stared dully at her, then fell back down onto the pillow and wiped the sweat off her brow.

"Tell me about it when I can carry a normal conversation." She said. Misprint looked over at her strangely. 

"Whassa matter?"

"We'll explain later." Jack interrupted. He kneeled down by Misprint. "Mis, you gotta give me some information here."

"A'right…" She said slowly. "But I really don't remember anything…really…Racetrack…I was trying to act normal so he wouldn't suspect anything..."

"And you did a good job." Bumlets assured her.

"But listen to us now. What happened last night?" Shade closed her eyes and tried to block out the words, not because she was afraid of what Misprint would say, but because she was afraid of the pounding that failed to cease in her brain. 

"Last night…oh, that's easy." She laughed, almost kind of nervously, and her eyes showed slight panic. "I was dancing when I foist saw him…he was staring at me…I just ignored him. Then later on he was standing there. Don't know how he got there that quick, but he did. We danced for a while, I guess…" She admitted. "And then he asked me if…well, he…we went outside and he…" A flush wormed its way up her neck and the flames of the colour licked her cheeks. "Tried to kiss me."

"Tried?" Shade smirked painfully.

"Okay. Kissed me." She snapped. "And after a while he kissed my…" She motioned to her throat. "My neck, and then bit me. And…I dunno. Everything went black after a while."

"Did you see anything? Any visions?" Jack persisted.

"Nuh uh." She shook her head emphatically. Jack sighed. Bumlets started pacing, picking up where Jack left off. "Why?" She asked, a definite tremor in her voice now. "Was I supposed to?"

The door suddenly swung open again, revealing Racetrack, carrying two pairs of black jeans. 

"Heya goils. And boys." He said respectfully, tossing the pants onto the bed. "Mis. So lovely to see you awake. Although, I gotta say, you ain't half as pretty without that eyeliner of yours."

"Don't test me, boy." She grinned mischievously. Bumlets almost laughed. She was pretty good at changing face when she needed to.

"Just kidding." He grinned at her, his eyes flashing with something hard to decipher. "You know that. So…what are you two doing this weekend?"

"Sleeping." Shade said immediately. "We're both kinda sick. Some flu bug or something."

"Too bad." He replied casually. He was about to say something else, when Chaos burst through the door and almost ran into him. 

"What?" She snapped, her nerves already slightly on edge. Dutchy peeked in from behind the door. "Jack. Bumlets. Who's this character?"

"Anthony Higgins." He replied, letting his eyes linger on her face for a moment or two, before snapping out of it. "Heya Dutch. Whaddaya doin' ova heah?"

"Just visiting." He replied cautiously. "I know these people."

"Yeah, well that much I gathered." Anthony replied with a grin. Chaos rolled her eyes. He glanced back at her, before sighing. "Well, I can see we have a bit of a party going on here. You'll have to excuse me. I haven't had my breakfast yet."

"Don't expect a feast." Misprint called after him as he left. Shade smirked, and pulled the blankets suddenly and violently up to her chin. It was freezing. Chaos slammed the door after him, then spun around. 

"I brought Dutchy." She said, pointing out the obvious. 

"Good, good." Jack said. Shade moaned and her teeth started chattering. Jack glanced over at her. "Bumlet's. Take care of her, while I explain." He whispered. Bumlets nodded and grabbed the cloth out of the bowl and tried to sponge her forehead, but she knocked it away with flailing hands. "No," she bemoaned. Sighing, he hastily tucked the covers up to her chin and brushed her hair off of her face.

"Short summary." Jack was saying, his serious glower in place. "Misprint ran into Spot at the club last night. He nearly drained her, till Shade interfered. He nuked her.." Chaos was staring at the bite marks on Misprint's neck, while Dutchy was paying intent attention to what Jack was saying. "So far, neither of them remember anything after being attacked."

"You said something about visions." Misprint said hoarsely. 

"Yeah. Usually, with Spot Conlon's victims, if he doesn't drain 'em completely, he leaves 'em with visions. There's only been five cases before." His scowl deepened. "An only two out of the five escaped."

"Prey." She repeated huskily. "Is that's what's going to happen to me?" Her eyes were livid with fear. 

"Well, if she doesn't see visions…" Bumlets piped up, trying to assure everyone.

"It's too soon to try and figure out what's going to happen." Jack cut him off. Chaos sighed, and passed a hand through her hair. Then he looked over at Shade, who was struggling to keep her eyes open. "I got no doubt Misprint'll get better. The body can pump out two gallons of blood every twenty four hours. But Shade's going through withdrawal. A nuke withdrawal."

"Only a quarter of it was used." Chaos spoke up.

"Could be all it takes." Jack said grimly. 

+ 

It took the man a moment to realise the figure in front of him wasn't as tall, or as intimidating as he thought she was. He laughed brutishly, when he grasped that it was feminine, child like, and half his size. He swayed a little drunkenly, most certainly owing to the fact that he had consumed eight beers that night. He had to, to drink off the pain of Angela finally leaving him.

"Ain't you a li'l young to be out so late? You lost or something?" He chuckled. She shrugged. The light of a passing car washed over her, finally giving him a clear, if not somewhat distorted because of the alcohol, image of her. A tiny Indonesian girl in a perfect little blue sundress, her hair tied back in a pony tail, smiling. Her teeth were slightly crooked.

"I've been lost for a long time." She replied cheerfully. As though she was telling him the time of day, or the name of her new Barbie doll. 

"Really?" He said, the smile dropping from his face. "You should go ta da…pol…police ah somin." He tried sluggishly to get the words out from between his drunken lips. 

"No. I get along fine." She replied, her words still incredibly chipper for someone who had apparently been lost. "No need to drag the police into this."

"Well how d'ya live out heah?" He asked, crouching down. 

"It's not too hard." She said. "Especially when men like you go out and get drunk. Do you know how much easier it is to live off those who are drunk?"

"What?"

"Drunk. You're drunk." She repeated it, the small smile never leaving her face. Now that he thought about it, there was something very eerie about her smile, and he suddenly had this feeling he would rather be anywhere than here. "A lot of the times they're drunk. It makes things so much easier, don't you think?"

"I don't…I don't quite know whatcha talkin' about…" He replied. But before he could finish the sentence, she had leapt on top of him, efficiently pushing him to the ground. He opened his mouth to yell, but she sunk her fangs into his neck and used the small power she had to completely blank his mind. 

His blood was greasy, and tasted a lot like alcohol. The only trouble with choosing the intoxicated ones was the taste. But, with her size and her youth, it was easier to attack the young, or the drunk and, let's face it, the young weren't usually out at her time. 

She finished him off and stood, then wiped the blood from her lips with her arm. The blank eyes of the man stared appealingly up into the sky, where the stars connected the dark blue to each other, forming a web of night. She smiled down at him, then skipped off, her white, shiny, patent shoes clicking sweetly against each other as she made her way back home. 

+ 

"So what. You ain't gonna tell me?" Shade asked, her eyes buried by her arm, which was slung across her face. Misprint looked up sleepily. Even though a lot of her blood had been regenerated into her veins, she still felt rather drowsy and lethargic at times, or occasionally dizzy spells. She knew Shade was having a lot more trouble. She had heard her friend groan in pain, and had felt the bed shake. 

"Ain't gonna tell you what?" She replied. Jack and Bumlets had left with Dutchy and Chaos. Probably discussing top secret slayer business or what-have-you. They didn't want the girls included, that was for sure. 

"What it was _like_, dumb ass." She grinned.

"What? Getting my own blood sucked out of me?"

"No, kissing him."

"Kissing him?" She made a face immediately, that Shade couldn't see, on account of the arm across her eyes. Her friend smirked.

"Yeah. Your foist kiss. Comon."

"Well…" Misprint blushed. Is this what being a teenager was really what it was about? If so, she didn't like it. "It was real weird…"

"Was he a good kisser?"

"He bit my lip!"

"That's sexy."

"Don't be an idiot." Misprint cautioned. Shade ignored her.

"Okay, so he bit your lip. And?" Misprint paused ni thought.

"It was too weird." There was a silence. Shade finally peeked out from under her arm.

"And…?" 

"And what?"

"And what else can you tell me?"

"Nothing." 

"Nothing? That it was weird, and he bit your lip? That's pathetic."

"Hey." She snapped. "I'm suffering from blood loss, and you're suffering from withdrawal. Act like it." 

Shade smirked. "Didja like it?" She asked, falling back against her pillow. 

"Fuck you." Misprint replied. Shade laughed, and shut her eyes, feeling her skin run cold. Her body temperature had been dipping lately. Misprint rolled over, feeling the secret smile lift the corners of her mouth. She didn't know _what_ Shade would have said if she had replied.

+ 

Sometime during the night Shade woke up, and felt like she had been transported from Jack's bed into the deepest pits of hell. A fire was burning inside of her, giving her a slow flaming ache in her throat, and the pounding in her head so loud that she couldn't hear anything. She was shaking so bad that she wasn't exactly sure if she had complete control of her muscles. She raised her fingers to her face and watched them jerk back and forth in the moonlight that streamed through the window.

"Oh God." She moaned. She shut her eyes tightly and curled into a ball, hoping the pain would eventually leave. Jack and Bumlets had managed to sneak in some food before the girls feel asleep, but Shade felt so hungry…longing for something…she knew that her body wanted Nuke more than it wanted air or water at the moment, and she knew it would also be easy to creep out and find some. But she wrapped her fingers around the bed post and ground her teeth. She would not give in.

The longing filled her, driving her almost insane.

"Jack…" She whispered. "Jack…Jack!" her whispers towered into screams, and she found soon she was screaming his name, almost sobbing. A couple thumps and a figure rushing towards her told her he had heard, but it didn't stop the screams. The pain and the yearning mixed together, a tornado inside of her, tearing apart her insides. Misprint woke up and was slowly reclining to the other side of the bed, trying to avoid Shade's flailing limbs. Jack caught both her wrists and pulled her towards his bare chest, then wrapped his arms around her so strongly, she felt as though she was in a straight jacket. Her face and neck were drenched with sweat, and she was crying wildly and uncontrollably. 

"Shh…" Jack muttered to her. "Don't worry. We'll get through this. Forget the nuke. Forget it."

"I can't…" She sobbed.

"Yes you can." He glanced over at Misprint, whose blue eyes were wide with fear. "Go back to sleep Mis." He said softly. She nodded and obediently lay down on her pillow, but didn't close her eyes. Shade was still weeping in the background noises of the night.

"It hurts so badly." She whispered. Even being there, tight against his chest, didn't help the fact that her insides were tearing as they spoke. 

"I know." He said. "I know what it feels like."

"You?" She asked incredulously through her tears.

"No. But trust me when I say I know what you're going through." He gave her another, tighter squeeze, then let his arms relax slightly. He sighed. The very first hit of the real withdrawal had struck with a vengeance, and he wasn't sure if she'd be able to handle the rest of it. She was still sobbing, and clutching her stomach and throat. 

"Can I lie you down now?" He whispered. She bit her lip and shook her head, trying desperately to calm herself, but only breaking down harder. "Don't worry. You only got another day or two."

"Uh huh."

"Just relax." Something triggered in Shade's mind. _Relax. Didn't no one ever tell you that when you were getting a shot_? She stiffened in his arms. But the soothing voice reassured her that it was Jack, and not Spot, that held her close to him for the next hour, trying drastically to rid her of the pain. 

+ 

The next day was only worse for Shade. They had to move Misprint back to the girls dorm, on account of the fact that it would be even dangerous to have her sleeping in the same bed. So, amidst the girls fiery protests and insults, they had successfully packed her off to her own room, where she waited out the Sunday, pacing relentlessly and finally going back to the boys dorm, just to be with her friend. Even though it did no good. Shade looked like she was in so much pain it was unendurable to even _watch_. She didn't know how Jack did it, but he managed to keep vigil by her bed, the cool cloth always damp, even though she never wanted it.

The one time Misprint did manage to visit was when Shade had a particularly uncontrollable seizure. Misprint remembered sitting there with her, when suddenly her jaw had clenched and she had curled into a tight little ball. She had suddenly begun jerking and twitching, almost as though being stung by thousands of wasps. Misprint had panicked and called for Jack, who had rushed in and immediately wrapped his arms around the girl, who was still shaking, tears running down her face. 

"It's what you do when someone's having a seizure." He had said, responding to the look on Misprint's face. She watched in horror as he rocked the girl back and forth, the girl who she know longer knew as Shade. "You just have to stop them shaking."

"She looks horrible." The makeup from the club still hadn't been washed, and now it was more like Shade had been crying black tears. Only Misprint had the time to wash the gel out of her hair and finally remove the crystals from her face. She stood there now, in a purple tank top and large black jeans, watching her friend cry. "It ain't like her at all."

+ 

"Hey. Shade." Jack said softly. Shade opened her eyes, and a horrible sinking feeling hit her when she realised what day it was.

"Monday." She said softly. "Oh no…God no…Jack?"

"Don't worry 'bout it." He said, brushing her hair back from her face. He sighed and pulled her up. She shivered, and wrapped her arms around her.

"But it's so cold!" She whined. Her voice was dulled, and her skin was waxy, but her eyes had a spark back in them that they didn't have all weekend. Jack felt a weight lift from his shoulders as he saw her look, quite normally, up at him. "Do I really gotta go?"

"'Fraid so. I already told you teachers that you had a wicked case of the flu over the weekend." He replied, trying for his life to be casual. "And I've organized it so that there's going to be one of us, or Misprint in every one of or your classes. Just in case you pass out and do something strange."

"Great. That's a relief." She moaned sarcastically, closing her eyes. "Can't I jus' skip today?"

"No. We don't want anyone to think there's something seriously wrong with you." He replied, tearing the covers off of the bed. She sat up, shakily, and found that her balance wasn't quite as off as it was over the weekend. She was able to move her limbs without shaking too bad, and under her fingers, the syringe hole wasn't as swollen. Jack then tossed her the pants she was wearing that night and one of his grey hooded sweat shirts. "Go take a shower and get changed." He instructed. "I'll walk you to your dorm to get your uniform. Misprint will meet us there."

"How's she doin'?" Shade asked, as she stumbled towards the bathroom.

"Better." He responded, gathering up his binder and shoving it into his back pack. He sighed and scratched his head. The homework had been to study the notes, but, understandably, he didn't have time. The whole idea was to blend in, not to be rebellious, or even oustandingly good. Just to be a normal kid, of who no one would suspect actually killed vampires at night. And he really had no excuse.

Oh well. Every kid didn't do their homework once in a while. He figured he was fine. He could hear Anthony and Dutchy arguing amiably a couple rooms down and grinned. It was good to know that no matter how strange some things could get, there was always something normal, no matter how small. He heard the water running and pulled on a navy blue tee shirt over the black tank top he had. He was going to get hell for still not having a uniform. 

Shade let the water run over her hair and face, washing away the weekend, stinging slightly when it hit the hole in her neck. She grimaced and covered it with her hand, but only pressed the water against it more. Sighing and grabbing a small bottle of shampoo, she squeezed a globe of the substance into her palm, and stared at the sickly green colour, before she started scrubbing it against her hair. 

She was almost disappointed that she didn't remember most of the weekend. Well, the idea of the whole hellish pain and torment wasn't all that appealing, but she would like to remember being held by Jack. Even though the whole two days had her thinking about far more important things, like staying away from the light, but her crush on Jack was stronger than ever and, she hoped, still not evident.

She dried out her hair and hesitantly pulled on her clothes. She had trouble with her shoes, the laces jumbling her brain slightly, and at one point sighed and wondered how the hell she would ever get through Mrs. Orellos class. She'd have to do what she did last time (it seemed so long ago!), when she had just copied down gibberish, and vowed to read off Misprint's notes. But the thought of Mrs. Orrellos face in front of hers drawling "Shade, why aren't you paying attention?" Made her want to vomit.

She finished drying out her hair and pulled at one of the spirals that it had curled into again. But at the top, as always, it was as shiny and smooth as paper. She opened the door, and Jack looked up, brushing back his hair.

"Ready?"

"Uh huh." He reached over and took her arm, to keep her steady, and led her out the door.

They met up with Misprint, true to his word, right in front of the girls dorm, where Shade changed into her uniform as quickly as possible.

"Heya Shade. How you doing?" She asked, concerned, the minute Shade was immaculate in the blouse and kilt. Shade smiled weakly.

"I'm okay. Still kinda cold though." She hugged the shirt tightly around her. Misprint and Jack exchanged a glance, then Misprint wrapped an arm around Shade's shoulders. 

"Come on." She said, as the three of them walked towards the main building. 

Breakfast went by quick, even though Shade refused to eat.

"But you must be starving." Misprint remarked, poking at her unappetising looking porridge.

"I am. But there is no way this is going to be my first meal." She replied acidly. Misprint had to grin, despite the horrible taste. Jack smiled too. As the bell rang, Misprint leapt to her feet, and waited for Jack to help Shade up. The brunette that Misprint had been shoved into the other day, Amy, glanced over at them, and her pretty, glossy features creased with jealousy when she saw Jack wrap an arm around her to steady her, and then take her hand. Then she turned to one of her cronies and whispered something no doubt malicious and biting. But it seemed to amuse them. Giggles from all around.

"Comon." Misprint rolled her eyes. "Let's get out of here." 

"I agree." Jack said, glancing around. The three of them made their way to the socials class, all wondering if Shade would be able to survive her first day back since being nuked.

The minute they entered, Shade could almost feel the vibes. Mrs. Orello was giving them a look that clearly showed the depth of the shit they were in. Jack patted Shade on the shoulder.

"I'm gonna go sit down." He said. "Good luck."

"Yeah. Thanks." she rolled her eyes. Then she turned to Misprint. "You realize I'm not taking notes today." She said firmly. "I trust you'll be generous enough to share yours?"

"Of course." Misprint rolled her eyes. They both approached the teacher.

"I trust that you girls were able to get the notes from one of your classmates." she said in her nasal voice. Misprint and Shade glanced sideways at each other simultaneously. 

"Uh...actually..." Shade started. "We didn't, but we'll pay extra attention in this class, Mrs. Orrello, we'll be real good."

"Really good." she corrected automatically. Then she sighed. "Girls..." she went into her "concerned teacher" voice, and Misprint and Shade instinctively stopped listening. They watched her lips move, the red lipstick making strange smacking noises as it closed and parted.

'Jeez. What an old hag." Misprint thought. 'Just for once I wish she'd lighten up. So we missed a class, big deal.' Her thought suddenly blanked, and she gasped softly, frightened. Then they returned to her. 'What the hell was that?' She remembered the feeling she got when she had the last vision, and resisted the urge to shut her eyes and curl up into a ball. 'No visions. Not now. We're going to have our hands full enough with Shade.' She glanced up at Mrs. Orrello. 'Looks like she's wrapping up. Nod and smile.'

A few minutes later, she and Shade were returned to their seats, and Misprint elbowed Shade gently, reminding her friend to take out her book and act good. She, herself, looked up as Mrs. Orrello cleared her throat and began the lecture.

"Class. Be quiet." She said. Most of the class was so burnt out from the weekend, they weren't exactly eager to obey, but didn't want to cause some big talk on how education was so important. They all silenced.

Jack found he kept glancing up nervously at Shade, wondering what was going on with her, and hoping that she wouldn't start crying or something. He knew how bad her withdrawal was, and he was sorely afraid of any kind of gesture that would make it look like she was actually recovering from something worse than a bad case of flu. Misprint, too, was worried, for Shade and for herself. But it wasn't too bad. She figured it was probably just a spell of dizziness. Why would he still be sending her visions? She tried to think from a vampires point of view as Mrs. Orrello turned around and lifted her chalk. Go to club. Bite girl. Find out girl is protected by four slayers and a drunk best friend. Leaves girl alone, and goes for smaller fish in the pond. Made sense to her.

Shade pressed two fingers to her temples. Every sound echoed in her head, the whispers of two girls near the back, the constant scratching of pen and pencil against paper, the clack of the chalk hitting the board. She groaned softly and shook her head, trying to shake out the strange feeling that was creeping into her brain. Then she flipped her braid over her shoulder and pressed her pen against the paper, and started trailing a line of little swirls made to look like incredibly messy hand writing. She glanced up and down, in the pretense of paying attention, but every time she moved her eyes something in the back of her head exploded.

Misprint glanced over at her friend and casually reached over and patted her shoulder. Shade nodded and smiled tersely at her. Misprint sighed and continued writing. She had to pay attention, Shade and her had to wise up so things weren't so hard for them. So she wrote. 

It took her a moment to realise that Mrs. Orrello was discussing a case of mysterious deaths in the 1900s. Even she managed to make such a topic sound incredibly boring. 

"Ah. Here we are." She said, holding up one page that she had taken from a binder on her desk. "He was sixteen at the time. Irish immigrant. Spot Conlon."

Misprint paled and leaned back in her seat slightly, and Shade pressed her fingers to her temples harder. Jack shifted uncomfortably in his seat. A few girls giggled though.

"Spot? What was he, a dog?" One girl laughed shrilly. Mrs. Orrello tried to give them a withering look, but failed miserably.

"You have to understand that sometimes nick names were used a lot more than their real names. Sometimes their names were completely forgotten. These were boys with no families or ties anywhere, and it didn't matter a lot to them." She glanced down at the paper again.

"Mis..." Shade whispered, curling he fingers around the edge of the desk. "Mis..." She looked over at her pleadingly, before her eyes were covered by a film. She started shaking. "It's freezing..."


	6. six

****

Six

"No. Not now." Misprint hissed, watching her friends face grow pale. "Shade. Not now. Don't do this to me." Shade didn't answer. Misprint leaned back and desperately tried to catch Jack's eye, but he was staring down at the paper, as though it was some sort of mystical puzzle he couldn't figure out. She raised her eyebrows, then, doing the only thing that seemed logical to her, raised her hand.

"Yes, Faith?" she asked. Misprint ignored the aggravating use of her old name. 

"I think Shade's having another bout of that flu that struck her over the weekend." She said, loud enough for Jack to hear. Out of her peripheral vision, she could see him look up, and could hear his sharp intake of breath. "I'm going to escort her to the sick room."

"Is she having a seizure?" Mrs. Orrello asked , interested, , leaning towards them. Misprint wrapped an arm around Shade and was able to pry her fingers from the table. Luckily, this bout wasn't very strong. 

"No. She's just real sick. We're leaving now." She said hastily. Then she stood Shade up, and the two of them stumbled out of the classroom. Misprint felt the panic rise inside of her like flames, and now, as she stood in the hall with Shade, who's fists were now locked up tightly, and raised to her chin, she really started to have immense misgivings. Misprint knew her friend was about to curl up into a seizure, for which she didn't know how to fight, only knew that the victims had to be held. She needed to get her to the sick room. But it was at the other end of the school. 

Jack suddenly appeared beside her.

"What the hell are you doing here?" She asked incredulously. He hastily clapped a hand over her mouth.

"Shh..." Together, the three of them pushed Shade away from the open dorm. "Mrs. Orrello ain't hard to sneak away from. Had her back to the class. Luckily, no one ratted on me..."

"Jack, whadda we do?" Misprint asked desperately. 

"Well, let's see how far we can get her before she collapses." he said. Misprint nodded, and felt like sobbing. They both glanced over at Shade, and saw her hug her arms against her and shiver.

"I'm so cold." she whispered. Jack and Misprint both placed their arms around her waist and shoulders, and guided her through the halls.

"Hey." Misprint said softly. "You know when Ms. Orrello was talking about Spot? You think it's the same guy?"

"I don't wanna talk about it." He said firmly. She smirked.

"Whassa matta? What is about Conlon that pisses you off so much?"

"Don't talk to me about Conlon!" He snapped. The strength in his voice made Shade winced, and shake harder. 

"Man. He really did something to you, didn't he?" Misprint remarked softly. He turned and gave her the most intimidating glare he could muster, which stopped her dead in her tracks.

"I said don't talk to me about Conlon if you wanna stay in one piece." He snapped. "I've hit girls before, and it doesn't bother me." Misprint was about to reply with something acid, but Shade suddenly moaned in pain and clutched at her head. 

"Shit!" He muttered. She was slowly stumbling harder, and he grabbed her shoulders, then sat her down and leaned her against the lockers. "Shade. Hold on."

"It's so warm." she replied vaguely. 

"Don't worry. Just hold on." Shade wasn't exactly sure what he was saying. His face was sliding in and out of focus, and his words were as easy to understand as french country music through a static radio. It didn't seem like it was Jack staring at her any more, but a huge looming figure. But it had Nuke. The small red package, and it was twisting off the top. Her heart started beating faster. She wanted the Nuke so badly...but she couldn't. A firmer voice in her head was stopping her. So when it leaned in towards her neck, she pushed it's hands off her shoulders.

"Don't." She said softly. Jack let his hands drop to the ground for three seconds, before putting them on her shoulders again. "Don't!" she said louder, more forcefully. Jack turned around to Misprint.

"A little help here?" He said. She glanced at him blankly, then her gaze returned to Shade. Suddenly, she turned and started walking away. "Misprint?" Jack called. He felt his stomach clench. "Misprint, where are you going?"

"I can't stand to see her like this." she replied over her shoulder. But it didn't sound like Misprint, it sounded like someone was using her voice, speaking through her. 

"Misprint, get back here!" He yelled. Shade pressed two hands to the sides of her head, covering her ears.

"Don't do it! Please....don't..." She said, tears forming. "I can't. I shouldn't." Jack glanced at her, before looking up at Misprint. She was walking away, determined. He couldn't go after her, he realised this as he looked back at Shade, who was shaking so hard the locker behind her was rattling. Resigned, he pulled her away and encircled her in his arms, and the both of them watched the spiky haired Misprint walk right passed Mrs. Orrello's classroom. 

Misprint walked out into the grey morning, complete with the slight sprinklings of rain and the traffic noises, it was a perfect set up for some kind of horror-filled morning. But Misprint didn't see the bits of sunlight struggling through the clouds, or the icy filtered light. She saw her vision.

__

"Comon." Spot beckoned to her. He stood in the middle of the cold sidewalks, the rain making his hair damp, and messy. "C'mere Misprint." she shook her head and started backing away. His eyes flashed menacingly.

Misprint blindly took a right and walked out onto the sidewalk, then across the road, her mind filled with images. 

"_You bit me." She accused, pointing a finger at him. He smirked, his cool eyes losing their caveat, their threat. He seemed almost wronged for a moment._

"But you liked it." He said. Misprint nodded.

Misprint took another turn and walked, the rain soaking through the shoulders of her blouse. She wasn't entirely sure where she was going, but knew that it was the right place, where she would find him. 

__

"So comon. What's wrong with getting a little more?"

"That's doity." she said, not even cracking a smile. Spot leered.

"When you think about it."

"Maybe I think too much." She said softly, staring at the ground.

"Misprint!" A voice called. Misprint turned around to see Dutchy running towards her. But it didn't register. All that registered was the fact that she was almost there...almost...

Dutchy grabbed her wrist and pulled it extremely hard, jarring her backwards. 

"Leggo." she mumbled.

"No." He snapped. He grabbed her shoulders and started pushing her back towards the school, despite her struggles. He almost dropped her as she spun around and swung a fist at him, but his slayer instincts made him reach out and catch her fist, and twist her arm behind her back, sending shoots of pain into her shoulder. But it wasn't easy. She fought with amazing strength, like that of a vampire, he realised eerily. Visions.

"Listen." he hissed furiously in her ear. "You are going back to the school and back to the dorm. And if you keep trying to get out, I'm going to _lock you in_." 

"Won't keep me inside." She hissed back.

__

"Comon." Spot was closer now, his eyes as captivating as nets, or lines, pulling her in. She hesitantly took two steps towards him. "No need ta be afraid."

"You bit me."

"It won't be anythin' like last time. I promise." 

"I don't think I trust you."

"Well it ain't about trust now, is it?"

Misprint snatched her arm away, swung around, and kicked the boys shin. The pain ricocheted up his leg. Before he could react, she swung at him again, punching him in the gut. The heavens opened up and let loose a veritable waterfall of rain fell relentlessly on the both of them. Misprint closed her eyes and panted, not knowing what she was doing. Dutchy straightened, his hands on his stomach and stared at the drenched girl. Then he growled and punched her across the face. She hardly hesitated, but attacked him again, leaving a long scar down his temple. The rest of the blows were just a blur for the both of them, trying desperately to knock sense into one another. Misprint yelled and kicked at his stomach, whirled around, and punched his jaw at the same time. Just as she was about to give him another scar with her nails, he grabbed her wrist, then the other, and swung her against a wall, mercilessly. Her head cracked against the brick, and she squeezed her eyes shut, and then opened them. Dutchy held his breath. They were no longer icy blue, but vibrant. Misprint again. She looked at her wrists, tight in his grasp, and groaned as she realised why her head was pounding. Dutchy sighed, then pulled her close to him in a hug.

"Whyd'ya do it, Dutchy?" She said, sounding like she was on the verge of tears. But even though he had only known her for two days, he already knew she never cried. She gulped, then continued, her voice not as cracked. "Why'dya do it? I was almost there." Dutchy said nothing. 

+ 

Jack glanced up and down the halls. He couldn't be found holding Shade, with her moaning "Don't. Don't, I can't." He tried standing her up on her feet, but her legs were unstable, and wouldn't support her weight. He stared in bewilderment. Trust Misprint to leave him in a situation like that.

"Jack!" a voice said. In trepidation, he turned around and saw Dutchy. He was jogging towards him "Was that Misprint that just left?"

"Yeah. What are you doing out of class?" He asked, trying to get Shade to support herself. 

"Saw her walk by. She looks real different Jack, her eyes..." He gulped and tried not to show how much the sight of the cold, indifferent irises he had only caught a brief glimpse of disturbed him. "I figured you must have been busy with Shade to let her leave like that." Jack was gratified. He was lucky to be working with Chaos, Dutchy, and Bumlets. They were so observant it was almost uncanny.

"Just bring her back. I don't know what she's doing." He admitted. "But it sure doesn't look good."

"Alright. I'd better hurry. I told the teacher I was going to my locker." He turned around and jogged towards the end of the hall, wrenched the door open, and sprinted out into the rain.

Jack turned back to Shade, who was shaking so hard, she was almost hitting him. He finally looped his arm under both of hers, behind her back, and supported her down the hall. Her legs started working minimally, so it didn't look like he was dragging along a corpse.

He managed to get her back up to the dorm room, then pushed her down onto his bed. He glanced at the clock. He couldn't afford to be too long.

__

"This'll just make it more interesting." Shade opened her eyes blearily. The figure...again...the nuke was still poised over her neck. It was so tempting, so wonderful looking...she wanted it so badly. She was about to grab it, but suddenly heard Jack's voice.

"Shade? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine Jack...Just get the nuke away..."

"Der ain't any." He whispered.

"It's right there!" she said, louder this time. "Right in front of me!" She opened her eyes, and at the sight of Jack leaning over her, opened her mouth to scream. Jack clamped a hand over her lips

"Shh...Calm down, jus' calm down."

"Don't let 'im get me!" She pleaded through his fingers.

"No. Course not." He whispered. 

Hours seemed pass while she stared blankly ahead. Jack shifted uncomfortably. Her seizures yesterday had been violent and loud, but this was eerie, the way she stared completely ahead, not even blinking. He found his thoughts wondering from the girl clenched in his arms to Dutchy and Misprint. It seemed as though the world had closed in on the four people in the last half hour, going from a regular socials class to him clutching a girl having a seizure, and Dutchy chasing down a delusional Misprint in the pouring rain. 

And it was all because of Spot. Jack hugged her closer, instinctively, as Spot's leering face appeared in his memory. He and Spot still had a lot to settle between the both of them. A hell of a lot. 

+ 

Stephen was jumpy. It was understandable, being back in New York, where it happened so long ago. And being in the same place that you were sure he still was...every time a pair of light eyes met his, he recoiled inside himself. Every time someone tossed their dark hair, he jumped a mile. 

He didn't know why he had made the decision to move back. Life in Washington had been fine. Maybe it was the magical way New York had that pulled at you, tugged at your heart, no matter what had happened. 

He went to his classes. He finished his assignments. He handed in his homework on time. But his mind wasn't on anything he did. It was on those eyes...those eyes that had peered at him so intensely, and the smirk. The smirk that he would never, ever forget, even though he was slowly beginning to lose the other details that he thought he'd hold onto forever.

He was on his way to PE when he first saw her, and he could feel it almost immediately. The bond between them that was so connected it was almost impossible. He stared at her, absolutely frozen, and watched the blue eyes. She even looked like Spot. The dark hair and light eyes that were so steady, the tiny remnants of a smirk, even though she had a bruise on the side of her face and her friend had a few scars. She was soaking wet, same as the boy beside her. Suddenly, her eyes met his, and he iced over, as it burned between them. In one look, they both knew. And they both had each others sympathies.

Then the regular rush of the crowd pushed him along, and he lost sight of her.

+ 

Shade felt like screaming as she lay there, panting, staring up at the ceiling. She could feel the nuke pumping away in her blood and desperately wanted more. Jack had left. He had taken her to his room and left. She was alone in his dorm. She was glad. If he was here, and she told him, he would only, once again, remind her of her will power and how she was fighting this.

The most disturbing thing was that Nuke was in easy reach. It wouldn't take much to find some pusher in a back alley and get what she needed…the idea was plausible. Tempted, she slowly pushed the windows open. Jack wouldn't know…he wouldn't guess…she could already feel the needle at her throat…

"Shade!" A new voice barked. She jerked her head up and it banged against the window sill. A numbing pain shot through her, and she realised she had one leg hanging over the rain-drenched ledge. How had that happened? She felt two hands grab her and heave her back in. She was dizzy with the agony in her brain, so dizzy it took her a moment to realise Dutchy was laying her down on the bed. Little drops of water fell from his hair onto her forehead. 

"What the hell were you doing?" He snapped at her, his eyes as angry as snake eyes. She shrugged. "Shade, snap outta it!"

"Where did Jack go?" She asked in a blank voice. Dutchy sighed and, for his and her sake, tried to control his temper. Jack had told him his plans before hand, as soon as socials was over, he was going to cut class and spend time with Amy.

He was greatly opposed to this idea. For one, Jack was crumbling. Before, he was the stickler for rules, he was the one yelling at Chaos for constantly breaking them, training Bumlets, being in total control. Now he was breaking down! They were supposed to remain inconspicuous. Dating was not a good idea. He knew how much girls liked to gossip…especially Amy typed girls…and sighed as he realised how quickly Jack's identity would be spread around the school. It was his problem, though. If he wanted to be Mrs. Perfects boyfriend…well, Dutchy couldn't exactly blame him for being human.

He was about to tell this to Shade, but was suddenly startled by a glint in her eye. And in that tiny fleck of a moment, it was all revealed. She had it for Jack. Man, she _really_ had it for Jack. He sighed and brushed her hair away from her face.

"He had business to attend to." He lied, then glanced up at Misprint. Shade followed his gaze, and saw the drenched girl staring blankly ahead of her. "Get a towel." He instructed her. Misprint blinked, glanced at him, then slowly made her way to the bathroom, and obediently wrapped a white towel around her frail shoulders. Her haunted, vacant eyes were still as eerie as when she first walked in. Shade squinted and made out blotches of bruises around Misprints forehead and eyes. Dutchy had a small, bleeding scar on his forehead. 

"What happened to you two?" She found her thoughts contrasting horribly.

"Don't worry about it." He told her firmly, sponging a cool cloth onto her forehead. She groaned. How many times had they tried to wipe her forehead? It didn't help.

Misprint was staring into her own, reflected eyes, and wondered what was going on behind them. She, herself, wasn't exactly sure. She thought back to the conversation that she and Shade had carried a long time ago, talking about how people didn't use 90% of their brain, only 10%. And how great it would be to tap into the rest of it. Was that what it was? Some psycho unknown region of her brain attacking her? Then why did it keep showing her Spot? 

She sighed and felt like collapsing. The visions always left her drained. But she knew she was in deep shit anyways. She shouldn't have lied about the things she was seeing. She didn't feel so bad about lying to Jack, he wasn't high on her list of great people. But she felt bad about lying to Dutchy, who was so constantly amused by how screwed things could turn out. She felt bad about lying to Chaos, who, all in all, was still just a child with a stake and a menacing stance. And she felt bad about lying to Bumlets, who was the quiet, naïve newbie that everyone seemed to feel affection for. 

And now what? How could she stop the visions? There really was no way, short of finding him and…well, what was she supposed to do then? Ask him to stop? Not likely. She didn't know what he wanted, but was guessing it was something along the lines of her head on a stick simply for his amusement. Shade was rambling on to Dutchy in the next room, and she shut her ears. She stared harder at the blue of her eyes and tried desperately to see past the surface. Then she suddenly squeezed them tight, afraid to delve too deep and find there was nothing there at all.

Shade felt dizzy and pressed a hand to her head. The temperature was slowly fading back to normal, and she knew the worst of it was over. Jack had been lying when he said it was probably going to be three or four days. A month was more like it. She couldn't handle it! Whatever he told her seemed to be a lie. She wasn't strong enough, she didn't have the will. Nuke was the most addictive substance on the planet, and Jack was telling her, a scrawny sixteen year old, she had the will power to overcome its strength.

When Dutchy moved away to grab a towel for his own sopping hair, she felt incredibly lost.

+ 

"Hey Amy." Jack whispered. She turned around, and smiled prissily when she saw him.

"Hiya Jack." She replied, twirling a lock of brown hair around her finger. It was good he was here, even though he was rather late. She had something to discuss with him. Figuring there was no point beating around the bush, she took his hand and the both of them walked out of the back hallway.

"Who was that girl you were with this morning?" She asked suspiciously, as they cut through another hallway and out the side door, where they leant against the wall under an awning. The rain was falling down in sheets, broken by the small ledge above their heads, keeping them warm and dry and safe from the wet fury. Jack swallowed nervously.

"My friend." He said, trying to ignore the sudden lurch in his stomach. "She's real sick."

"You said you'd have breakfast with _me_ yesterday." She pouted. He smiled and wrapped an arm around her.

"You're real cute, you know that?"

"Jack, be serious." She rolled her eyes. "You keep saying you're going to have lunch with us and you never do! When are you finally going to come over to our table and meet my friends?" 

Jack had never wanted to do anything less in his entire life. Amy was already a handful, so her bubbly friends were an entirely different matter. Jack sighed. He hadn't wanted a _relationship_, just a girl. There was a subtle difference. But Amy seemed to want the whole deal. He sighed and stared into her blue eyes.

"I will, Amy. I promise. You know that I'm crazy about you."

"Really?" She asked sweetly. He felt like rolling his eyes. 

"Really." Before she could actually say anything else, he leaned over and kissed her, grimacing at the waxy taste of her Cosmic Cherry lip gloss. He had understood Dutchy's aversion to this whole relationship. Amy wasn't exactly the best conversationalist, and had a hard time thinking about other things than clothes, and shoes, which Jack found strange, considering they were at a Catholic Boarding school, and there was no chance they'd get to wear casual clothes in class anyways. And he knew that slayers weren't supposed to date. But he had been slaying for ten years, without even glancing at girls. He figured he was allowed a _little_ slack.

He felt slightly guilty for leaving Shade alone in the dorm room, but his impatience had finally frizzled. He couldn't afford to draw unnecessary attention to himself, and Shade was giving him trouble with that. Her seizures weren't over, not by a long shot. And he had been taking care of her, holding her, putting up with all the ranting and shaking for three or four days. He figured she was okay on her own for a few minutes, before it was lunch and Dutchy went up to his dorm to figure out what the hell was going on anyways. It wasn't like she was going to climb out a window or something.

Amy twirled a lock of his dirty blonde hair idly. She felt some of the jealousy at Shade ebb away, but still couldn't let go of the image of his arm around her as he helped her up. He said she was just a _friend, _but she knew the boy probably wasn't above lying. He seemed to be hiding something from her. She pondered, wondering if this had enough merit to warrant a talk session with her girlfriends. Almost anything did.

The two of them linked hands, and he made her squeal in irritation as he pulled her out into the rain. It would ruin her makeup.

+ 

Shade stopped going to classes. No one really missed her, she and Misprint had been skipping so much in the past ten years there, they were all waiting for it to start up again. The only strange thing was Misprint was still attending classes, but was much less attentive than she usually was. The teachers couldn't care less. They were so caught up in the school of a thousand and fifty kids, who had time for two odd ones? Misprint kept getting the visions during the night time, but fortunately didn't feel they were strong enough to actually get out of bed and try and leave the dorm. She always woke up Shade with her groans, who was forced to stare at her friend in anxiety, thrashing around in her bed, eyes clamped shut, until she fell asleep again.

Jack had gotten a bawling out from Dutchy, who had informed him that Shade had tried to climb out the window and probably find more Nuke while he was out, prancing around with his new girlfriend. Jack had smirked at the irony, and then found Dutchy bawling him out some more for not taking this seriously. He was letting his standards drop, he found. But he didn't really care.

"Ten years." He had snapped. "I've been slaying for ten years, Dutchy. I deserve some slack. And I'm cutting me some." With that, he had turned and stalked away.

Two weeks passed, Shade slipping in and out of oblivion, and Misprint putting on her charade. Her thoughts were always constantly occupied by the blue eyed vampire that had done this to her. She knew Shade thought of him too, but not in longing. In anger. She knew her friend was absolutely furious at him for putting her through this, and Misprint couldn't blame her. When Shade wasn't watching her have the night mares, she was watching Shade shiver and clamp her hands into fists, her body rebelling horribly against her. What was this stuff, so powerful it could make normal people suddenly go psycho? 

Misprint was walking back from PE when she saw the bright orange notice clamped to the bulletin board. Her interest was caught, and she elbowed through the group, talking excitedly, that was surrounding it. A cute, smiling pumpkin border framed the words:

****

OCTOBER 30th, HALLOWEEN DANCE

Usually, a Catholic Boarding school wasn't so quick to have a Halloween dance, but the teachers were perceptive enough to know that the children would rebel if they didn't have some outlet of energy. So the Halloween dance was organised every year, grades eight and up. No need to involve the elementary school kids. They can be corrupted later.

Knowing Shade would like it, she read a bit farther. The letters were in bold.**Music.**Well, I should hope so, she thought cynically. **Drinks**. _Probably not the kind Shade and I are after_. **Fun**. _Great_. **Go to the Halloween dance, held in the gym, October 30th. Music provided by Anthony Higgins.**

Devils night, Misprint thought eerily, thinking back to the movie she and Shade had sneaked out to see once. The Crow. She remembered the image of the city burning, thanks to the arsonists and criminals that had run wild on that very night. Storing the information back in her head, she figured it might be a good excuse for fun, even though it _was_ a high school dance. She and Shade could dress up as gothic as possible, freak out some of the less creative girls and boys. They could dance, drink, sing, probably get suspended for consorting with the devil. Excellent.

She turned and was surprised when she found herself face to face with the blonde boy from that day Dutchy had been forced to beat her up in order to save her. The boy with whom she had shared a connection. She had found his name out long ago, it was Stephen Carter. She had questioned Mr. Kloppman, even though the girls, strictly speaking, weren't allowed to set foot in the boys building.

Once again, she felt the eerie wavelength between them, as though he was reading her mind. She wouldn't be surprised if he wasn't. The telltale, lost look in his eyes matched hers when she had come back that day from the visions. She couldn't stand here like an idiot. She had to talk.

"Uh…" She stalled, trying a small smile. He didn't smile back.

"You going?" He asked, motioning to the sign. She glanced behind her, as though she had already forgotten what it was about. She felt like a moron.

"Yeah. I figure my friend and I might be up for it." She said, raising her eyebrows. "How about you?"

"I ain't going. I don't think you should." He said coolly, his eyes trained on hers. She swallowed. 

"Why not?"

"It'll be dark."

Misprint couldn't reply, her mouth felt like it was full of cotton wool. She cleared her throat.

"Pardon?"

"It'll be dark. And he might be there."

"Who?" She asked, already knowing the answer.

"You know."

"I do." They nodded at each other. He knew. She knew. She wasn't able to explain how she perceived all this, it was as though the thoughts had been inserted painlessly into her mind. She breathed in to say something, but he pushed past her, past the rest of the crowd, and went down the hall before she even figured out what she was going to say to him.

Shade was sitting on the bed when Misprint burst dramatically through the door, and tried to be cheerful, for Shade's sake.

"Heya baby." She smirked, sidling over, and raising her eyebrows in imitation of some kind of lady killer. "What's a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this?"

"It's my place." Shade replied, hardly keeping the grin off her face.

"Tell me." Misprint said, sliding next to her and putting her arm around her shoulders. "You doing anything Devil's Night?"

"What is this? Some kinda new club?" Shade asked. Misprint collapsed back on the bed, and grimaced when her head hit a bowl of chips that Shade had been eating.

"Nah." She replied, picking bits of corn chips out of her gelled hair. She swung her rainbow-sock clad legs. She had been reprimanded five times that day and was feeling rather proud. "School dance."

"A school dance?" Shade asked sceptically. 

"A school dance."

"That's pathetic." She laughed, before standing up and rooting through a pile of laundry.

"No it ain't! It'll be fun! Maybe not in the night club kind of way, but...." She tilted her head to one side. "_Tell_ me you don't wanna go there and scare off some of the preps. Like Amy."

Shade scowled. Any time anyone mentioned the girls name, she was hit with the memory of seeing her and Jack in the hall, hand in hand. It was painful to think about, which was wretched, she had to admit. Why was this one guy getting her so worked up? She didn't have time for him, and didn't care to make any. She had told herself, repeatedly, to forget about him, but it was hard. Ever since the two of them had gotten involved with the slayers, it seemed like they were stuck there for good.

"Keep talking…" Shade urged her.

"You know. Raise a li'l hell." Misprint rolled her eyes. "And besides. Halloween costumes are fun."

"A'right, fine. But if it sucks as much as a va…" she was about to say Vampire, but from the look on Misprint's face, quickly changed her tactics. "Vacuum cleaner does, then I'm holdin' _you_ responsible."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Misprint rolled her eyes. "Your jus' grumpy. It's the withdrawal."

"I'll have you know that the seizures aren't as bad as they used to be. S'matter of fact, they've nearly stopped all together." Shade said stiffly.

"That's good."

"Tell me about it." Before Misprint could reply, the door burst open, and before them stood none other than Anthony.

"Well, well, well. If it ain't the resident DJ. What's up, dawg?" Misprint smirked.

"Hey! I'm providing the music. Don't mock me." He snapped, grabbing the nearest article of clothing and tossing it at her. 

"Whatever you say, homeboy." Misprint replied offhandedly. Shade smiled weakly. Seeing her best friends often cheered her up. 

"What are you doing here, Race?" She asked. "This was the girls dorm, last time I checked.."

"But don't you enjoy a visit from me once in a while?" He said, pouting as he collapsed on the nearest bean bag chair that the two of them had stolen from the Rec Room. 

"Only if you come bearing sexual favours." Misprint said perkily. Shade laughed, then turned to their visitor, who was looking slightly uncomfortable at this outburst. 

"Resident DJ?" She repeated.

"Sure. I'm the only one in this god forsaken school that can use the turn tables." He smirked. 

"Promise me you won't do techno." Misprint interjected. Racetrack nodded absently.

"I see it as a lucky break." He replied. "I won't have to be up there dancing like a fool. Like Mush and Blink." He added. Misprint grinned. Mush and Blink had been his previous roommates for the past three years or so, until Dutchy had arrived, and they had agreed that they could spend a year apart. Misprint and Shade were never the best of friends with the two, but it was nice to nod at them in the halls, or call greetings to them over lunch times. 

Shade looked mildly interested. "They got dates?"

Racetrack nodded. "Yeah. Girl called Mondie got her paws on Mush, and Gemini Kelly managed to get Blink to ask her out."

"God, they're best friends too." Misprint rolled her eyes. "The only way that this could get any cuter is if they were twins."

There was a slight pause after she said this. Shade sighed, and assumed a pathetically pouting face.

"Doesn't it suck to be single?" She asked rhetorically. Racetrack chortled, but Misprint raised her eyebrows. 

"What?" She asked. Shade rolled her eyes.

"That's right. I forgot. You're Ms. Perpetually Virginal…although I dare say you and Race would make a…"

Misprint grabbed a pillow from beside her and tackled Shade, shoving the article up against her face to quell the flow of words. In the teasing banter that followed, she completely forgot to tell Shade about Stephens warning.

+ 

Rosie took the blow to her jaw, spun around and slammed her fist into Hornet's gut. He shook it off immediately, and did a roundhouse kick, knocking her efficiently in the temple. She fell back, rolled up, and was immediately in fighting stance again. She smiled, showing her fangs, which elongated in the intensity of the moment. Maybe this war wasn't too bar, it gave them the chance to sharpen their talents on someone who could actually fight, and not just scream and thump their fists harmlessly against them. She rolled her eyes. Humans were so weak. Both vampires circled each other warily, their unnatural strength truly amazing to watch.

Hornet lunged forwards, grabbed Rosie's shoulders, and threw her against a small stone wall, which crumbled underneath her. Then he leapt on her, flipped the stake out of his pocket, and swung it downwards. Her soft, brown, doe eyes widened. Then she curled her legs against her chest, placed her feet in the middle of his stomach and pushed as hard as she could.

She kicked herself to a standing position in time to watch him fly backwards and smash against a brick wall. With a grin, she dove towards him, and before he could even straighten, kneed him in the crotch.

He let out a groan of pain, and he weakened slightly, giving her the chance. She grabbed his collar, twisted it, and hoisted him off his feet.

"You know. Any guys…" She threw him to the ground and stepped overtop of him, then pulled out her own stake. She paused in pretence thought. "Vampire or mortal…" She sat down, straddling his stomach, pinning his hands with her knees, and pressing the stake against his chest, point down. "They all got one weak spot." 

He opened his mouth to growl at her, but she leaned on the stake, driving it through his chest, and smiling as he exploded into dust.

"One down." She whispered, brushing the ashes from her red leather pants. She picked up the stake and stared at it strangely, a little dazed. She had never actually killed one of her own kind before. It was strange, yet weirdly exciting. And she didn't have to worry about anyone finding the body. With a satisfied smirk, she twirled the stake in her fingers, then jammed it into her belt. She could get used to this.

+ 

'Allo, again, readers. Just a quick note: For some reason, fanfiction.net was taking out the paragraph breaks, making the whole thing just one big segment. I went through (all twenty five chapters. -_-) and put in little "+" signs so there would be no more confusion. And you have my apologies for any befuzzlement that may have been caused before hand. Happy reading! 


	7. seven

****

Seven

Misprint stared at herself critically in the mirror. She wore black capris and fishnets, then a pair of beat up running shoes. Shade had gone to great lengths to try and convince her into the leather pants again, but Misprint wouldn't budge in her costume decisions. So Shade took them for herself. Misprint wore the same tank top from the club, (she had washed out the blood stains), and borrowed a pair of black, feathery angel wings that Shade had bought at a junk store two years ago. She had the crystal tears again, and eyeliner around her blue eyes, barely visible in the corners, then flowering out into deep lines. 

Shade was wearing a black tank top that cut in a v-shape, and combat boots underneath the leather pants. Her hair was straightened again, falling into a curtain to her middle back, and she had a thin silver line around her eyes. Her lips were black, and on her head was a small top hat with a silver band.

"Should we stop by Chaos's dorm?" Shade asked as Misprint smudged at her eyeliner.

"Why? She isn't going, is she?"

"I dunno." Shade admitted. "But it's woith a shot."

"Chaos at a high school dance?" Misprint smirked. "Not likely."

"True." 

Misprint glanced over at Shade and felt doubts, despite her friends excitement. The seizures had practically gone now, and in their wake, had left headaches. Headaches that were so bad, Shade often curled up into a ball and let the tears soak her jeans because they hurt so much. She wasn't exactly sure if her friend was _ready _to go to something like this. But she didn't want to offend her.

So she said nothing.

The two of them left in companionable silence, each thinking their own thoughts. Shade was hoping against hope that Jack was not going to this dance. She really saw no reason he should, unless…unless Amy was going.

This only made things worse.

She hated herself now, for not getting over this. But if she saw Jack and Amy at the dance…Jack and Amy, heaven forbid, _dancing _at the dance…she might just go stark raving mad.

She and Misprint stepped outside, and walked sedately over to the gym. Choosing to be fashionably late, fashionably _hour and a half _late, the dance was already in full swing. 

Misprint felt strangely jumpy, and nervous. As though someone would step out from the shadows to harm the both of them. Stephen's warning in the back of her head made her feel that something was going to go terribly wrong tonight.

"I'm gonna go find Race." Shade said, the minute she caught sight of the students dancing.

"He ain't dancing though." Misprint reminded her.

"Exactly." She replied. She pushed into the gym in front of Misprint and broke off, heading for the small turntables at the front, where Racetrack was looking immersed in his beats.

She glanced around the gym and tried to console herself with the images she saw. It was easy to pick out Kid Blink. He had the tell tale patch across his eye. Along with that, he wore a ragged, black vest, huge skater jeans, and had an earring in one ear. Gemini was laughing with him. She wore a white tank top, white bellbottoms, and on her back wore angel wings, similar to the ones Misprint was wearing, but a silver colour. Resting on her wealth of curls was a white tiara. They were attempting a jive off in the corner, but failing miserably. They were both laughing too hard to actually complete the steps.

Mondie and Mush were a little ways off, and Misprint had to grin when she saw the girl. Her hair was loose over her shoulders, but in a hair band, with two little black cat ears. She wore a black tank top and bellbottoms, but with fake claws on her fingernails. She had taken eyeliner and drawn whiskers and a nose onto her face. Mush was dressed in completely casual clothes, skater jeans and a loose green tank top, but had two dog ears poking out of his own brown curls. 

They were just too cute.

Misprint turned and almost fell backwards as she caught sight of Mrs. Orrello…the woman was obviously trying to partake in the festivities with a costume of her own, but had failed miserably, to the amusement of every student in the gym. She was dressed as a huge banana.

Misprint decided to avert her eyes before she obtained permanent brain damage, and instead, tried to pick out Dutchy and Bumlets. They weren't hard either. Bumlets was sitting on a bench near the side dressed up completely as…well…Bumlets. Dutchy was beside him, his eyes flicking over the dance floor, keen as a hawk. He, too, wore no costume. He caught sight of Misprint, raised his eyebrows, and then gave a little wave.

She sidled over and waved back at him.

"You ain't gonna dance?" She questioned. He shook his head. "Aw, why not?"

"Slayer business." He smirked.

"What, at a high school dance? That's cheap, Dutch. Besides, you can slay and dance at da same time, can't ya?"

"Ain't never tried before, and don't wanna find out tonight." He replied just as coolly. "Why don't you go dance. Bumlets, Chaos, and I are keeping an eye out."

"Chaos is here?"

"Yeah. Why shouldn't she be?" Misprint only smiled and shook her head. 

"Fine." She glanced over her shoulder and scanned the gym. "I'll jus' go find Shade…oh." She caught sight of her friend sitting up with Racetrack near the turntables.

"Doesn't Shade dance?"

"Are you kidding? She makes it a _rule _not to dance." Misprint replied, grinning. "See you two later. Have fun." She added derisively. Then she turned and strolled over to the dance floor.

Racetrack, true to his word, wasn't just playing the repetitive techno fuzz that Misprint hated. She bobbed her head slightly to the beat. Wide Mouth Mason, _Change_. Not bad. 

She caught sight of Jack and sneered. He was there, in his regular attire, with Amy. She had a pink stretch tee on, with the playboy bunny displayed in bold black. She had a pair of pink bunny ears perched on top of her head, pink and white sneakers, and black mini shorts that could have easily been underwear. It was disgusting. Misprint never really understood Shade's attraction to the boy, to her, he seemed like one of those dime a dozen beach boys. But who was she to bug Shade about it? She turned in a slow circle, letting the beat take her. 

Gemini grinned as Blink turned her in a circle, then took both her hands.

"You suck at jiving!" She yelled over the beat.

"What?"

"I _said_, you suck at jiving!" She repeated, then broke out in laughter as he tripped over his feet and almost did a face plant on the floor. But just in time he grabbed her around the waist, and they both stumbled forwards slightly.

"What can I say, you're distracting me!" He accused. She rolled her eyes but couldn't help grinning at the same time.

"That's real lame, Blink."

"You wanna go see the haunted house that the seniors set up?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. She shrugged.

"Sure. At least there's no chance of me getting a concussion." 

Contrary to that, they still attempted to jive their way over to the door at the other side of the gym, both having trouble breathing as their laughter inhaled for them. They finally fell into line behind Mush and Mondie, whose fingers were twined together. Blink accidentally smacked Mush over the back of the head as he flailed into line.

"What?" Mush cried out, spinning around.

"Gem!" Mondie grinned. "Wheah did you come from?"

"My mother." Gemini answered automatically. Then she glanced at the both of them and smiled. "You are _so_ cute."

"Like we haven't been told that before." Mondie groaned, leaning against Mush as he circled an arm around her waist.

"But you are!" Gemini protested.

"Hey! You kids goin' in or not?" Someone growled. 

"Shut yourr face." Blink snapped over his shoulder. The two couples stepped into the haunted house.

The first thing that greeted them was a rubber bat flying towards them in the darkness of the first room. Mush jumped slightly, causing Mondie to crack up.

"You're adorable!" She squealed, planting a kiss on his cheek. Mush blushed, then hugged her tighter. He never really had tried for attention from girls before, but he had a feeling that he liked it. He also liked the feel of Mondie in his arms. 

The four of them resolutely batted the toy away and kept walking.

Shade sighed as she watched Jack dancing. He and Amy were yelling back and forth over the music. She was vindictively pleased to see that he didn't look too happy, and neither did Amy. 

"Whassa matter with you, Shade?" Racetrack drawled, quickly flipping another record on. "You seem real glum."

"I am, Race." She said, sighing and placing her chin in her hands. She pouted, and was satisfied when he smirked slightly.

"Why, pray tell?"

"I'm hopelessly in love." She said in a high voice, rolling her eyes. She strained her ears, trying to hear what they were shouting, but it was impossible. The music was far too loud, even though she was behind the speakers, and the cheers of the adolescents were ear shattering.

"So…" Race was saying in an ambling, over-casual voice. "You know if any of your younger friends are here?"

"What?" She asked, furrowing her eyebrows.

"Just wondering." He said quickly. 

"Not that I know of…"

"None of your non-junior friends?"

"No…"

"Freshmen friends?" He raised his eyebrows so high they almost vanished into his cap of hair. Shade smirked.

"Chaos?"

"Did I say that?" He replied defensively, scratching a record back and forth a few times, then quickly grabbing another one and flipping it onto one of the turn tables. Shade rolled her eyes.

"She's my _only _freshmen friend, Racetrack."

"Damn." He avoided her eyes. True, he had only seen Chaos once or twice, considering she was constantly over at Jack's dorm. He would have assumed they were dating if it weren't for Amy. But you never knew. Amy was pretty dense. You could probably juggle a couple girls like her. He could feel Shade's eyes on his back and accidentally fumbled slightly, causing the record to skip. "Oh, for the love a'…"

"Chaos, Racetrack?" She nudged.

"What?" He snapped, trying to avert her.

"You wanna know if Chaos is here."

"Just curious." He said lightly, bobbing his head slightly to the beat. Shade smirked. Her mind quickly snapped to the results, being the type of person she was. Chaos and Racetrack. She couldn't see Chaos being too eager in that. The girl never smiled, not that she knew of, and was as willing as a person doused in honey and told to amble on into a hornets nest. But…it would be cute…

"You got a thing fer Chaos, Race?" She asked, just as lightly as he did. He jerked slightly.

"Did I say that?"

"Any of your _younger_ friends here?" She mocked. "None of your _non-junior_ friends? _Freshman _friends? _Chaos _friends?"

"Shaddup." He snapped. Shade reluctantly let it go. It was fun pushing the boy to his limits, seeing how red his face could actually go. She did a quick scan of the dance floor. Chaos was there, leaning against the wall, glaring at any one who dared approach her.

__

Race don't stand a chance, she thought grimly. A second scan told her that Misprint wasn't there. This puzzled her. Usually she was in the center of the dance floor, even if it was techno. She was a music whore. A slight twinge of fear pinched her, but she shook it off. She probably found Stephen and was off somewhere with _him_. She claimed over and over that there was nothing between them, but Shade knew attraction when she saw it.

And it was not happening between Jack and Amy.

Amy had stopped dancing completely and was yelling at him. Not in the way that she was just trying to get him to hear. In the way she looked angry. He was looking more bored by the minute. 

"'Scuse me, Race." She said, patting him on the shoulder.

"Shade!" He whined, slipping slightly. "I'm trying to concentrate."

"Yeah, yeah." She said, jumping off the platform and pushing her way onto the dance floor. Big mistake. She landed herself right in front of a speaker, and felt her ear drums rattle in her head.

"My god!" She whispered to herself, pushing past the music-high teenagers and over to the small group of Amy's friends and Jack. She could hear their yells as she got closer, but couldn't quite make out the words. Amy looked ready to slap his brains out.

Her hand shot out and she grabbed onto the collar of his coat.

"What?" He asked, spinning around.

"Comon!" She said, pulling at him.

"Jack? Where are you going?" She could hear Amy whine. 

"Com_on_." She said again, pulling harder. He stepped back.

"Whaddaya think you're doing?" He snapped.

"Rescuing you." She said, raising her eyebrows and smirking. Jack sighed. "Comon Jack. Humour me." She said, grinning wider. She could be persuasive if she had too. And she had a feeling that Jack didn't exactly want to choose the Fire Breathing Prep over her. He couldn't be that sick of her. Could he?

She knew that he wasn't all that happy with her. And she had to face it. Even if she was taking care of a gorgeous guy, him having seizures at three in the morning that had to be attended to because he disobeyed her would be a little bit of a pain. And when she started up in class and needed constant attention, when he obviously had a girlfriend, she would have had enough too. She couldn't blame him. And as nice as it was to have him holding her all that time, if she wanted his affection, she didn't want it out of pity or duty.

"Whatever." He finally snapped. He turned back to Amy. She couldn't hear exactly what he yelled to her, but it seemed to work well enough. She turned around and stormed off, her bunny ears askew. Her troupe of girlfriends followed her, before shooting enough dirty looks at Jack to kill. Shade persistently pulled him off the dance floor and towards the haunted house that she had just seen Gemini, Blink, Mondie, and Mush go into. 

"Whaddaya want?" he asked. "If this is about the seizures…"

"Don't be a prick, Jack." She snapped. "Those are over with. Now I just get killer PMS…" She pressed a hand to a temple, as though to accentuate her point. 

"Then what's this all about?" He demanded.

"It's about _me_ saving _you_ from _her_." She informed him, pulling him into the darkness along with her, then jumping and screaming as the bat swung down from no where.

"_Jesus_!" Mondie screamed as someone jumped out at her. She took this as an excuse to snuggle up against Mush's rib cage. He didn't resist. She heard the person snicker as she crouched back into her corner again. Mondie was glad for the darkness. She knew she'd be getting a hell of a lot of teasing otherwise. She rested her head against Mush's shoulder.

The next room was empty, except for ten or twenty masks hung at different levels on the walls. Blink glanced over at Gemini. Mondie and Mush were laughing loudly, ruining his chances to actually talk with her. This didn't elevate his hopes at all. He stooped and examined one mask.

"Boring." Mondie proclaimed immediately. "Come on you guys."

"Hey Gem." Blink invented, crouching down and studying one of the masks. "C'mere."

"Blink…" Gemini groaned. "I know you're a whore for details…but comon…" She motioned around the room. It was pretty boring. Blink turned and his sea green eyes caught at hers. Then, with a quick movement, he lifted up the eye patch and gave her a wink.

"Gem." He insisted. "Come see this. It's pretty neat."

"You two go ahead." Gemini said finally. "Blink and I will catch up later."

Mondie arched her eyebrows, and felt like giggling and clapping her hands, but knew it would embarrass the both of them. So instead, she toyed with a curl of Mush's hair, and glanced meaningfully at him.

"Comon Mush. Let's leave these two to their own devices."

"But we may not meet up again later…" Mush replied naively. Mondie rolled her eyes at Gemini.

"Ain't he cute?" She simpered. Then, before either one could reply, she grabbed his ear and pulled him out of the room into the next. They could hear her scream.

"Rubber bats." Gemini said immediately. Blink quickly stood up and caught her waist, turning her in a slow circle. 

"Alone at last." He smirked. Gemini rolled her eyes.

"Yeah. What are we going to do? Jive?"

"I actually had something else in mind." He informed her, raising his eyebrows. She opened her mouth to say something, but he leaned in and pressed his lips against hers. She nudged her head forwards slightly, responding, her arms coming to rest on his shoulders as he leaned her against a wall. The masks crumpled underneath her skin, but she didn't care. He parted her lips with his tongue and gently caressed her mouth with his own, before kissing a trail along her cheekbone. She sighed in happiness and twirled his hair in her fingers. Goosebumps were forming up and down her skin, and she smiled. Mondie was still screaming in the other room, and soon her cries were joined by Mush.

"I wonder what's in the next room…" Gemini muttered absently.

"What?" He murmured.

"Nothing." She said, pressing a hand to the back of his head. 

She could hear footsteps coming up the stairs, and hoped maybe if they pressed into the shadows enough, they wouldn't be noticed, or recognised at least. Her wings were crumpling underneath her as they shifted towards the corner, but they both forgot their intent as he kissed her again, drawing small circles on her skin.

"Shh…" She giggled, as he softly tickled her. "There are people coming…"

"They won't recognize us." He lied.

"I'm wearin' fuckin' _wings_, Blink." She reminded him, as he nibbled at a spot on her neck.

  
"So what…" He said, his murmurs trailing off into her skin. She closed her eyes. Maybe he was right. She knew she was rather distinctive with the tiara and bright curly red hair, but she wasn't really caring all that much at the moment.

"For your information…" Jack told her stiffly as she recovered. "I didn't need ta be _rescued_…" Shade turned to him and gave him a look that clearly meant she didn't believe a word he was saying. 

"Jack, I love you dearly, but you really are stupid." She said indulgently. He bristled.

"I believe it was _you_ that screamed." He said raising his eyebrows and motioning to the bat dangling down from the doorway.

"Shad_dup_." She growled, pushing him over slightly. "I'm just a little jumpy tonight, that's all."

"Right." He rolled his eyes, then punched the bat away as they moved onto the next room. "Who set this dump up anyways? The _freshmen_?"

"What's a better place to hide from an angry date?" Shade reasoned. Jack glared.

Amy was angry with him, that was obvious enough to anyone who had eyes. Their arguments were over the stupidest things, but this one held a little more significance than "what's _wrong_ with these jeans?". She thought that he didn't listen seriously to her. And she was absolutely right. Jack had trouble listening to her. She just didn't talk about anything notable. And it wasn't like she listened to _him, _but he wasn't complaining.

"Comon." Shade said, pulling open the door of the next room. Glow-in-the-dark bones were plastered up and down the walls, and there was a person slumped in the corner, her eyes dark and staring.

"They're good actors, I'll give them that." Shade said, shrugging. Jack nodded, but glanced at the dark red goo on the persons neck. It looked pretty damn real. 

"Good effects…" He said slowly. Then he glanced up. Something was wrong. He could sense it.

Strangely enough, so could Shade.

"Jack? What's the matter?" She asked softly. Jack didn't answer, but nudged her out of the way slightly as he went to the girl. She was in one of his classes, someone who had failed one year. He wormed an arm behind her shoulders and lifted her off the wall. Her head lolled grossly to the side, stretching the two wounds on her neck…

"She's dead." He murmured.

"Gimme a stake." Shade demanded, as soon as he let the girl go.

"What? No." He said, drawing out his own and readying it in his hand.

"What? You're gonna leave me defenceless?" She snapped, stepping up to him aggressively.

"You ain't gonna be defenceless." He said. "Get out of the house. I gotta find out what's going on." A loud scream from upstairs jerked the both of them into anxiety. Shade felt a strange emotion surge up from her stomach.

"I ain't leavin'!" Shade remarked, raising her eyebrows. "This party's just getting started!"

"This isn't a party." He said icily over his shoulder, as he turned to the next door and started walking away. "And you're not a slayer. There's no _becoming_. You either are, or you aren't. And you aren't."

"So what? I can fight." She persisted, following him.

"But you ain't got the strength to fight off a vampire. You think they're as weak as humans?" He glanced at her. "Besides. You're only a li'l goil."

"You bastard." She snapped. She grabbed the back of his coat and yanked him back. "Gimme a stake. Now."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because you're diving head first into this, and you're going to get hurt! Just like when you went to the club." He shoved her back slightly, and she stumbled. He took the time to turn and try and make a break for it, but she grabbed the back of his coat again. 

"Jack. Gimme a stake. I won't be no trouble. Besides. Wouldn't it be good just to have a little back up?" She persuaded. He turned and clenched his jaw.

"You ever heard of the saying 'you're more of a hindrance than a help?'." He said stubbornly. She was so annoying! The set of her jaw was just as stubborn as his. Why did she have to follow him around like some lost, little orphan? She couldn't be a slayer. She could be a slayer as well as Jack could be a drag queen.

"I ain't leaving." She said, crossing her arms. They glared at each other, silently battling. 

"You can't handle it." He spat.

"Gimme a chance." She replied. The glare session lasted another moment. Finally, Jack relented and handed her an extra stake.

"What? No crossbow?" She pouted, but she was cut off by him shoving a finger at her face.

"Don't push me." He warned. She rolled her eyes and brushed past him. 

"Comon. Let's go stake some ass." She whooped.

"Heart. And let me go foist."

"Why? Just stay right behind me." She told him, as though _she_ was the slayer. He grabbed her shoulder and pulled her back.

"No." He said sternly. Then he kicked open the door and rushed in. It was empty. But the screams were still coming from upstairs. Shade ambled in after him.

"Man. Danger in every corner." She rolled her eyes. "Let's head upstairs. Seems that's where all the action is."

"Would you shut up for just _two_ seconds?" Jack snapped.

"Bite me." She smirked. He growled, but suddenly spun around as he heard a floor board creak. Before he had time to collect and organise his thoughts, a fanged figure was leaping towards him, hissing. Acting purely on instinct, he dropped to the ground and rolled past it, suddenly realising he had just let it land before Shade. He jumped up, pushed his hair back, and saw Shade back up until she hit the door, the vampire lunging towards her. 

"Shade!" He yelled, his stomach clenching in fear. The call seemed to jerk her out of her paralysis. She suddenly ran forwards and rammed her knee into the vampires crotch. To Jack's absolute shock, the vampire doubled over and fell to it's knees, wheezing in pain. Shade fumbled for her stake and drove it into his back, making him explode into ashes that fell to the floor, gently as a cloud of rain.

Shade watched as he disappeared, leaving only the dusty stake clenched in her hands. She felt like shaking, but knew it would look bad. So she shrugged and stood, then jammed the stake into her belt.

"Piece of cake." She said coolly to Jack. "Don't know what you were on about when you said I couldn't handle this…"

"That was…what?" He stammered, staring at the ash as though it was some kind of joke.

"A weak spot? He's a guy." She shrugged. 

"He _was_ a vampire." Jack said. "You wouldn't have been able to hurt him enough to make him…"

"Well I just did." She shrugged. "You think too much, Jack." She wiped her forehead with her arm, then straightened her hat, which had tilted considerably in the excitement. Then her face split into a grin. "Hey! Maybe I'm a slayer too!"

"No." Jack said immediately.

"Why not? Maybe I'm a long lost slayer." She said, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

"The council keeps too many tabs on the slayers and their whereabouts." Jack replied acutely. "There's no way you could've been lost." 

"Sure there is." She replied. "I'm an orphan."

There was a long silence as Jack looked her up and down. His thoughts were struggling painfully against themselves. There was no way she was a fully fledged slayer. It wasn't possible. Maybe she got lucky. _Once_. Good for her. But from now on they'd both have to be careful.

"Beginners luck." He said grudgingly.

"Yeah, right." She rolled her eyes. He chose not to answer.

He pushed the next door open to find the room empty. They walked through a few more rooms, and found nothing amiss.

"False alarm?" Shade suggested tentatively, after a long bout of silence.

"Nothing is a false alarm." Jack replied. Shade shrugged. Another silence followed as they pushed into yet another empty room. A huge paper-mache monster was skulking in the corner.

"So…what's with you and Amy?" She asked carefully.

"I'd rather not talk about that."

"Seriously. I don't mean to be a damper on your _relationship_…" She said, saying "relationship" sarcastically enough to put anyone on MAD TV to shame. "But what do you see in her?"

"A goil." Jack replied.

"Well I should hope so. That's it?"

"That's all I want right now." He replied, scanning the room one more time before kicking open the next door. To both their shock, three or four vampires were crouched around a solitary corpse. Shade swallowed, then dragged out her stake. But before she could even rush forwards, Jack had staked two of them, and was know punching his weapon through the third and fourth.

And it was over.

__

Boom, boom, boom. She thought grimly. He dusted off his hands then clenched his stake harder. _He didn't hurt any more of them than necessary_, she realised. _That's pathetic._

"What was that?" She asked, putting her hands on her hips. He looked up at her.

"What?"

"Just…just like that?"

"What, you going to give me pointers?" He smirked.

"I sure as hell am. That didn't look like any fun at all!" She said. He grinned. She looked pretty spunky, standing there in the doorway, top hat cocked jauntily on her raven black locks. 

"Fun?" He repeated, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah. Play around with them a little." She advised. He drew a breath. All these traits…the strength…the viciousness…they were very vampiric. 

"Who's the slayer here?" He finally snapped. She sighed and rolled her eyes.

"You are. Now. Back to Amy." She took his arm and pulled him forwards to the next room. "Are you saying you just want a fuck buddy?"

"Why not?" he sighed. He might as well humour her. It looked as though he was going to be spending the rest of the night with her. Damn.

"That's really asshole-ish, even for someone with _Amy_." She admitted. 

"Well then I'm an asshole." He snapped. He was really getting pissed off at the idea of the next twelve hours with her. "Look, just go back to the gym, alright?"

"What? No!" She protested.

"I don't want any more people getting hurt."

"I won't get hurt."

"You're following me around like a li'l lost puppy!" He snapped.

"At least I ain't the one begging to be put down." She replied scathingly. He opened his mouth to say something, but found no words came to him. She smirked, turned around and pulled the door open. A laugh and hiss came from the darkness of the room as she strode in.

__

Vampires.

Jack could sense them, waiting in the darkness. 

"Wait! Shade!" he stammered, stumbling in after her. His eyes adjusted immediately, to show her standing stock still in the center of the room.

A sudden dark shape lurched towards her, and he ran to her, feeling a bead of sweat creep down his temple. But to his surprise, she leaned onto one leg and kicked at her attackers throat with the other.

This usually wouldn't waylay a vampire if the assault was coming from a human. But the vamp screamed in pain and fell to the ground, choking. Shade quickly straddling him and punched him. Another vampire leapt from the darkness to knock her away, but Jack quickly drove his stake through the blood suckers chest, watching him explode into dust. 

"Bastard." Shade muttered to the vampire underneath her. She pulled her stake back, then punctured it into his stomach. Jack watched the blood lurch from the vamps dead flesh and soak Shade's pants. 

"Shade? You missed by a mile." He informed her. "You stake them through the _heart_."

"I know, I know." She said. "But see, Jack? This is fun!" She twisted the stake slightly and smiled as the vampire cried out in pain. "Good times!"

"Shade, just kill him!" He snapped. 

"Aww…"

"Shade!"

"Yes, mother." She rolled her eyes, then punched the stake through his heart, and jerked to the ground as he crumbled away beneath her.

"How did you do that?" he asked, pulling her to her feet.

"Do what? I told you already, I know how to fight!" She insisted.

"But he was a vampire!"

"Obviously, Jack." She snapped.

"It ain't possible." He insisted. She raised her eyebrows at him.

"It is now." She said coolly, mustering up a satisfied smirk. She tried to twirl the stake in her fingers like they did in the movies, but ended up dropping it. She winced.

__

Not cool.

----

Today's author's notes are brought to you by the letters F and U. In other words: shade jacked misi's computer and decided to update. 

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author's notes: we love our reviewers but, alas, we wont be doing shout outs until we start posting new stuff, we'll try to have chapters up more quickly from now on -glares at misi-

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warning:This story should not be read by people with morals, values, heart conditions or who may be pregnant. 3 shade


	8. eight

****

Eight

Misprint stood in the crowd, staring up at the turntables, where Racetrack was still spinning tunes, and Shade was sitting ruefully.

"Comon Racetrack." She whispered under her breath. "Play it…play it…" She cheered erratically as the slow piano lick pushed through the tired beat he had been playing. She saw him catch sight of her and grin. She smiled back. 

__

I gotta remember to buy him chocolate later, she thought, as she spun to the music. It was one of her favourite songs, and she moved her lips along with the words whispered in the little boys British accent. _Put out the torches…light the moon…light the stars…_

Well you're the grand wild, have you noticed  
When you walk in all the fairy boys are pale and nervous

She spun around slowly, not listening to the conversation that sprung up as her fellow class mates realised this song wasn't current, or even well known. It was very obscure, that was for certain. But every time Misprint heard it, it melted her heart. And not many songs melted her heart.

A quick glance up at Racetrack told her he and Shade were talking. But he wasn't looking at her. In fact, he was avoiding her eyes as much as possible. She smirked. She probably had him cornered with some embarrassing fact.

__

You're the grand wild, come and court me  
'Cause this wooing, Is what I'm wanting

She felt someone behind her and spun around, expecting Stephen or something. But there was no one. She sighed, but didn't let it put a dent in her dancing. She thought suddenly of his words. _It'll be dark_. She felt a tremor in her stomach. How much did he know about her? She had a feeling it was a hell of a lot. He had mentioned Spot. Not by name or by features, but she knew that he had. _He might be there_.

__

Spot ain't here. She told herself firmly. _Now let go. Relax. This is one of your favourite songs._

  
When my spaceship comes to orbit  
Then hold me like a girl  
I am the captain of the gravity, Maxwell  
Everywhere I see your face

She finally was able to forget about the concept of Spot and whirl herself around as the chorus started, and the familiar voice crooned out the song.

__

  
Hot One  
From the starship over Venus to the Sun  
But, it's a crime!  
You're mistaken!  
A momentary seizure...of love  
Oh, love

She glanced up again and saw Gemini, Mondie, Mush and Blink walk into the haunted house. She smiled. It was adorable, the way they seemed to click into each others personalities so brilliantly. She wondered if she'd ever have something like that. 

__

  
Well you're the grand wild  
But Darling, I'm a mess  
I've got to humanise my wrinkled form   
But the boys are not impressed

She lip synched along to the soft voice, hardly able to help the smile that split her face wide open. It seemed as though it had been a long time since she was really, truly happy, but as she spun and raised her hands over her head, she figured that this must come pretty close. Her friends were happy, she was happy, not to mention there was a song on that made sex look bad. Or sex as she assumed.

The image of herself actually having sex sprung to mind, and she brushed it off with a roll of her eyes. While Shade bemoaned her frequent states of loneliness between boys, Misprint had never actually felt the physical need for someone. Except for at the club.

She pushed that from her mind too, as the song drove relentlessly on. That didn't count.

__

  
When my spaceship comes to orbit  
Just hold me like a girl  
I'll be the captain of the gravity, Maxwell  
I see your face in the strangest places

She felt it first as a strange sensation in her stomach, the tightened feeling that permeated through her torso just before she was about to scream or throw up. The muscles along her shoulder blades tensed, and she lowered her arms slightly, almost feeling vulnerable, as though she had a bright red target painted on her back. A quick glance around showed her that everyone else was idly joined up in pairs and taking the opportunity to get a few good feels in, or lounging about on the sides waiting for a more popular song to blast from the speakers. Trying to shrug the feeling off, she raised her hands again and slowly moved her hips to the beat. 

Suddenly, the small of her back grew cold, and goose-bumps sprang up around her shoulders and stomach, along with the tingling sensation at the base of her neck that told her someone was close to her. She forced her feet to keep moving, her hips to keep swinging, forced herself to keep dancing. She was in a room full of crowded people, of course there would be closeness, of course there would be contact. Regardless, she found herself stiffening as she spun around, and caught sight of a figure that stood too close for comfort, backlit by the flashing purple and yellow lights that spun around and high lighted the loose strands of hair flying from the girls heads, and their soft, yeilding bodies, the thin, long fingers of the boys, the stubble that grew around their mouths. The light shone around him, illuminating his shape, his strong thin arms and wiry torso, his loose, shaggy hair. But the figure itself was darker than hell.

Misprint froze, her arms raised, her eyes wide, her feet fastened to the floor, as though nails were driven through the soles of her shoes. She couldn't move. The bite marks on her neck began to throb.

Almost as though he could sense this, the shadows of his face twisted into a smirk. He reached out, placed a hand on her hip, another on the side of her neck, gently running his fingers over the marks, feeling the scar tissue underneath his fingertips. He leaned in, delicately inhaled, and blew the words out against her ear, soft as a prayer.

"I came to see you dance again."

__

  
Hot One   
From the starship over Venus to the Sun  
But, it's a crime!  
You're mistaken!  
Momentary seizure...of love  
Oh, love

Misprint meant to scream, to yell, but the noises stuck in her throat like steel wool as soon as his fingers found her skin. The words she meant to hurl hatefully at him scratched the insides of her mouth, and filled it with a taste that was almost like blood. She felt sick.

"You…" She managed to get out, her voice soft and strained. With the strength she had, she twisted away, hating the way his hands felt so pernicious, but gentle and dangerous. Promising. She didn't like that thought. She didn't like how he was here. Hadn't Stephen told her? Why didn't she listen?

"Me." He repeated, stepping forwards and catching her wrist in his long, thin fingers. Even before she tried, she knew resistance would be fruitless when she was caught in a grasp with that strength. She could feel the veins throbbing in her flesh, could feel tentative bruises trace their marks around his fingers. In a wild attempt at getting help, she twisted her head around desperately to see if anyone had noticed the two of them. If they had, they were doing nothing about it, eyes closed and hips swaying, arms around one another, gentle and loving. She turned, arching her body away from him, to see if she could possibly alert Chaos or one of the slayers, but she felt a tug at her wrist, and was pulled towards him, her feet skidding and sliding in their broken runners in an effort to prevent it.

Before she could catch her balance, he caught her in his arms, and pulled her towards him, her wings crumpling against his chest and the back of her head landing against the curvature of his neck. One hand slid around her waist, silent and gentle, while the other caught at her wrist and raised it. He slid it around his own neck, exposing the hardly existent curve of her chest. Laughing gently to himself, he leaned over and kissed the side of her throat, letting his fangs slide out and scratch ever so gently against the skin. It had the desired effect. She stiffened and paled in his embrace, frightened enough not to scream for help, resistant enough to put up a good fight. God, how he loved that.

__

But, it's a crime!  
You're mistaken!  
Momentary seizure...of love  
Oh, love

"You like that?" He whispered, fully enjoying the way she smelled. A cool, light fragrance of salt and blueberries. It brought back the image of the alleyway, and the dark haired slayer that had been foolish enough to try and come to her rescue. 

"Get off me," She said, trying to will her voice into something stronger. He laughed shortly, and ran one finger down the camber of her arm, pausing slightly to outline every rib on the way down to her waist. "I'm serious, Spot…I don't…I don't think that…"

"Don't fuck around with me, Misprint." He whispered, kissing her throat lightly, tasting the coolness of her on his lips. "I know what you're thinking."

"Don't." She said shortly. She realized that her fingers were resting lightly on his neck and moving slightly in the rhythm which he stroked her hip. Disgusted with herself, she pried them loose and tried to lower her arm, but he caught it, holding her wrist steadily in his hand. "I said don't. I'm…what do you…what…"

"What do I want?" He murmured. "Right now, I want for us to go outside, so I can talk to you without having to worry about your little slayer friends interrupting any…_conversation_ that we may indulge in." 

"What exactly do you mean by conversation?" She pressed, a slight spasm of fear going through her body. Spot said nothing, but she could almost feel his smile in the pit of her stomach. She let out a small groan of fright, and tried to pull herself away, but his hands were tight, and insistent on her skin. 

"Come on." His voice was harder now, less soft around the edges. "Outside."

"I'm not leaving this gym," Misprint said in the firmest tone of voice she could muster, feeling the muscles in her stomach twist and clench with anxiety and determination. "And if you try to drag me, I'll scream."

She felt him sigh with aggravation, but not the kind of sigh that told you he was beaten. The kind of sigh that an irritated parent might give. The kind of sigh that told her what she just said made no difference in what would happen to her at all. He bent close again, and pressed his lips against her ear.

"Since you seem to be having trouble with this concept, I'll make it easy for you. I don't like being refused, Faith. And when I do, I can't really be held accountable for my actions." Gently, he took her waist in his hands and spun her around to face him. Seeing his eyes made her feel nauseous. 

"Actions like what?" She spat.

"Actions like ripping someone's throat out."

"I'm an orphan, Spot." She replied, feeling her stomach twist at the tone of her voice. "No one's gonna care about me if I'm gone. The world may even be a little better off." 

His eyes sparked, and she knew that she had somehow given him an oppurtunity, a hook. He smiled.

"Not yours." He said. "Shade's."

__

Hot One   
From the starship over Venus to the Sun  
But, it's a drag!  
You're so mean,  
Destroying my belief in, in love  
Oh, love.

"So. You comin' or not?" He asked softly. Terrified into submission, she followed him from the gym. 

+ 

Jack was ready to kill Shade as she darted ahead of him into a room and had a vampire straddled before he even got his bearings.

"Shade!" He snapped, as the girl dug her fingernails into the flesh on her enemies face, leaving moon shaped scars up and down his cheeks.

"What? Can't you see I'm a little busy here?" She snapped, as she scratched at the skin. 

"Just kill him! We don't have much time!"

"Your no fun!" She protested, slamming a fist into his gut.

"Shade! I'm ready to kill _you_!" He screamed. She glanced up at him and caught the anger in his eyes. Sighing in disappointment, she rammed the stake through the demons chest, and stood, brushing the ash off her pants.

"Man." She suddenly grinned at him. "That really gets you hot an' bothered, don't it?" 

That was totally unexpected! Jack gaped at her, blinking a few times. She stood, quite calmly, in front of him, grinning like the Chessire Cat.

"No." He finally said thickly. She rolled her eyes.

"Yeah. Right Jack. _Tell_ me you don't get off on this."

"I don't!" He protested, feeling his face flame up like a burning fireplace. He stuck the stake in his belt and crossed his arms. 

"Yeah. Okay." She said sarcastically. A sly smirk crept onto her lips. "Can we go find another one?"

"Shade!" He reprimanded her.

"I'm serious." She rolled her eyes when his stern face didn't alter. Then she turned and opened another door. There was a girl with fake, orange looking blood caked on her face, staggering around and moaning. Jack went up behind her, and for some reason, placed a hand on her lower back and led her through the room.

Shade stiffened at his touch, and gripped her stake harder. It wasn't hard to miss it. The tank top wasn't made of five layers of wool. She glanced up at him, but he was staring resolutely ahead. They walked into the next room, which was blissfully empty.

"So." She said, wanting him to remove his hand, _very badly_. "If that ain't your big _O_, than what is?"

"What?" He spluttered. She grinned. He was very cute when he got all flustered.

"You heard me." She said coolly.

"What makes you think I'd tell you that?" He asked, glancing around at the shadowed corners.

"'Cuz I told you mine." She said plainly. Then she darted in front of him and grinned. "Comon…"

"Fine. Watching." He snapped. He pushed her out of the way and stalked towards the next door.

__

Watching people slay? She thought in perplexity. _What kind of a weirdo is this guy? _She thought of the way he killed of vampires. Coldly and neatly. He didn't even throw in a punch or two.

__

No wonder he doesn't get off on slaying! Maybe if I taught him a few tricks or something…watching? He get's off on watching people slay? Watching Chaos slay? Her next thought stopped her in her tracks, even as she heard the moan of a vampire that, thanks to Jack, obviously just had a stake through his chest. _Watchin' _me_ slay?_

"Jack!" She called, running into the next room. "Wait up!" 

+ 

The darkness of the night was apparent, even before they opened the door. Misprint felt the cool night air against her skin and shivered. But it wasn't as cold as his hands on her arm and waist. He pulled her outside, away from the prying eyes of the teachers and classmates, and leaned her against the wall, in the solitary blackness.

He hooked his thumbs into the waist band of her capris and nudged them down over her hip bones. She felt a pit in her stomach form, and sweat break out on her hands. She had never even entertained the thought of going farther than a kiss with any guy. Let alone a vampire. Her hands shot out and grabbed his wrists.

"What are you doing?" She asked, feeling her voice quake, and rise a few octaves in tone. "Stop it." She managed to hold his wrists back, but he wasn't putting up much of a fight. It was almost as though he enjoyed seeing her that worked up.

"I already told you I came to see you dance again…" He whispered, leaning in and kissing her throat again, enjoying the way it felt so warm and alive. She let out a shaky breath, and pushed the question out at the persistent flick of his tongue against the bite marks that made her shudder.

"Just to dance?" She whispered. There was a brief silence between them, a throbbing hush that made her heart pound in the narrow cage of her ribs. She felt his smirk against her throat. 

"Clever girl." He said softly. 

"I'm not doing…what you…" She stumbled over her words, wondering how Shade handled the subject so easily when blowing off members of the opposite sex. Was this really the same thing? He twisted one hand out of her grip and hooked his fingers into the belt of her pants again."I wouldn't."

"Wouldn't you?"

"Fuckin' not with you."

"Ouch." He laughed, slipping his fingers past the waist, making her tremble and let out a small whimper of fear. And curiosity. "Harsh words, Mis."

"Just go. I'm not…I'm not going to." 

"That's why I came, Faith." He said seriously, lifting his face and staring into her vibrant blue eyes. "You know that, right?" She grimaced, then softly removed his hand, before pulling the waist of her pants higher. He looked at her in amusement. Her fingers flicked up towards the bite at her neck, and an unspoken question flashed between them, brief and clear. 

"I don't need these re-opened." She said in a small whisper. 

A look that greatly resembled longing flashed in his eyes. He tilted his head one way and replaced her fingers with his own, stroking the wound softly. "You came for this too, didn't you?" She asked, afraid to hear the answer, already knowing what it would be.

"For this." He said softly. "Don't let me lie to you. I'd like that." He dug his fingernails into it slightly, and she twitched. "You've gotten it all back, haven't you?" Misprint said nothing. He smirked. "Spent some time off, didn't you? Wouldn't hurt if I took some more…"

He caught the delicious fear in her eyes, and felt it was something worth savouring. Laughing, he encircled his hands around her waist, pulling her towards him. No. He restrained himself, tearing his eyes from the beautiful wound. He'd have his fun later. For now…his fingers wormed their way under tank top and slowly crawled up her skin. "Comon." He whispered. "We'll go back to my place. Meet some of my boys…" He leaned in towards her, inhaling deeply. She smelled so nice, cool, close. He wanted to taste it again.

"You're bent." She spat bitterly, knowing she was fighting a losing battle. He laughed again, a soft chuckle that made her insides tighten and a strange heat smother her throat. 

"Yeah. It'll really make you scream." He breathed against her ear.

+ 

Gemini peeked over the top of Blink's head to see, with some embarrassment, Shade standing there, hands on her hips, a knowing look in her eyes.

"Well, well, well." She said in a mocking tone. "Blink finally got some." Blink jumped and spun around to see Jack stumble in behind her, definitely looking a little strained. 

"Shade!" He panted, raising his eyebrows. Gemini straightened her tiara and brushed her curls back from her face. She was pretty sure she was blushing, and guessed she deserved what she got. It was kind of reckless for her and Blink to not pay attention to what was going on…

"Sorry we disturbed you." Shade said, rolling her eyes and grabbing Jack's collar. "But we have to sweep through this house, and split. Pronto. Go back to what you were doing." She urged.

Gemini suddenly caught sight of the stake in her hand. "What are you supposed to be?" She grinned. "A vampire slayer?"

"Sure." Shade smiled secretly. Blink rolled his eyes, or at least the one visible.

"Comon Jack." Shade urged. "We gotta leave these two alone…"

"We should probably go catch up with Mondie and Mush…" Gemini said reluctantly.

"Oh no, you two carry on!" Shade ordered, wrenching the door open. But she yelled and stumbled backwards as a figure from the other room fell from the doorway and slumped onto the floor, baby blue eyes blank and staring, her dark hair spread around her like an oriental fan, the hair band with the cat ears skittering across the floor and landing at Jack's feet.

"MONDIE!" Screamed Gemini.

+ 

Shade sprinted into the room and let her eyes adjust in time to see seven vampires surrounding a terrified Mush. His ears were lopsided, and his eyes were wid with fear as he scrambled over to the corpse of a student dressed as a dead base ball player. He grabbed the bat and stumbled to his feet, holding it threateningly out in front of him at the seven demons.

He was terrified out of his wits. So scared, he didn't see Shade stalk up behind one of them and drive a stake through it's heart. Until it burst into dust. 

He felt his legs collapse from under him, and he slumped to the floor, as two more of them disappeared, as Shade burnt through them. 

She was so angry. She could feel hot blood pulsing through her like fire, as she stabbed another two of them. Mondie's eyes were etched in her head as she pushed her nails into one's eyes and smiled at the cry of pain he let loose. She staked him, and then finally finished the last one off.

"Jesus!" Mush said, standing and dropping the baseball bat. Shade ran to him and tilted his head back and forth, checking his neck.

"You okay?" She asked, as he wrapped her in a hug. She returned it, feeling her heart pound in her ribcage. But Mush's mind was elsewhere.

"Mondie." He whispered. He suddenly let her go and raced towards the door, to find Jack kneeling over the girl, while Gemini was searching her wrist and neck desperately for a pulse. Blink had his arm wrapped around his date. 

"Is she okay?" He demanded, kneeling next to her. "Is she alive?" There was a long silence. Mush saw the place where they had hit her over the head, and could see the trickle of blood from the gash in her temple. Her whiskers were smeared by the frightened tears that had poured from her eyes. "Answer me! Is she alive?"

"Yes!" Gemini suddenly crowed, pressing her fingers harder into a point on her neck. "She's…yes…she's alive."

"She's been knocked out." Jack said in a business like tone, as though he dealt with these things every day. Only Shade knew that he did. 

"What the hell was that?" Mush asked, taking Jack's place by his date's side and cradling her head in his lap. "What…who were they?"

"Part of the attraction." Shade remarked breathlessly.

"Seemed pretty damn real to me!" Mush shouted. 

"Keep your voice down." Jack advised calmly.

"What's going on?" Gemini demanded.

"What happened in there anyways?" Blink added.

"I'll explain all this lata." Jack said, glancing at Mondie, who was still unconscious at their feet. "Right now we gotta get her over to the sick room. And Shade and I got some business to take care of." They exchanged a glance, and then Jack lifted Mondie and wrapped an arm around her waist. She slumped sideways. Mush quickly went on her other side, and they supported her as though she was a walking person. "It'll help wake her up." He assured them.

The six of them left the room, Mush only remembering the way Mondie's eyes had gone blank when she was hit. 

+ 

"Honestly." Flo murmured, seeing the drunken, wispy lady stumble out of a bar. "How stupid are you?" 

Fact is, Flo had been eating incredibly well for the past couple nights. The human race just seemed to be getting dumber and dumber. They knew how much booze hurt them, but they kept drinking it anyways. Oh well. Women were easier to beguile. She put on an exaggerated, tragic face. Men weren't as compassionate.

Wasn't it tequila that had made Spot's job a little harder? It was all over the lair now. I mean, their leader has a new toy. What was her name again? Faith, or something. But her friend had come at him all drunk and disoriented. Flo found it extremely amusing he hadn't been able to finish the both of them off.

It wasn't any secret, she reasoned to herself as she stalked the woman down an empty side street. He thought he could keep this quiet from his men. They all knew. Flo had been one of the first to find out!

"Lady…" She whispered. The woman turned around a blinked a few times, before a smile spread across her face. "I'm cold an' hungry." She said, looking up at her with tears congregating in her eyes.

"Don't you have a mother to go home to?" The woman asked, leaning down and swaying slightly, so she was eye level with the child. Flo glanced her up and down quickly. She didn't look like much, and certainly wouldn't be a problem in a fight. Baring her fangs, she quickly pushed her down and sunk them into the flesh of the woman's neck.

She was even too disoriented to put up a fight! She cried of course, but they all did. Flo had made large, strong, men break down and cry. 

She drank hungrily from the wound in the throat and finally sat up, wiping the blood away from her lips. It was time to get back to the lair. She hoped Rosie was there. She and Rosie were good friends, or maybe Rosie was just humouring her. She wasn't exactly sure. She shrugged and stood.

Suddenly, two pairs of hands circled her arms. She opened her mouth to scream, but a hand was clamped over it. A figure loomed in front of her with a needle, and she could already smell the essence of it. She shook her head frantically and struggled, trying to kick at whoever was holding her, but their grip was too strong.

Her wrist was wrenched out and the man stabbed the needle into it. Flo watched as the brownish liquid in it slowly lowered, spilling into her own blood. Garlic. She felt her eyelids droop, and in a few seconds, was dead asleep.

"Comon. Quickly." Her vampire captors said, baring their fangs. "Let's get her back to Slade's lair. And fast."

+

****

Shade: No, Misi.

****

Misi: Please?

****

Shade: Fine. But then we get to do things my way -insert evil laughter here-

****

Misi: Partially.

****

Shade: whaddaya mean partially? Fascist

****

Misi: Watch it. I have a crematorium at the ready. -runs away from the people who are offended by the political incorrectness of bringing up bad points in history. And the Germans.- 

****

Shade: fine we'll do it your way, evil wench of STAB WOUNDS

****

Misi: Bejewelled stab wounds. -fondles belly button barbell-


	9. nine

****

Nine

Mush sat beside Mondie's bed, her cat hair band clutched idly in his fingers. The elderly nurse was babbling on behind him, and he was ready to rip his ears off just to stop the flow of words. Did she ever shut up?

"Horrible things, these dances." She was saying snippily, sorting through a stack of papers. Her grey curls were still, even as she moved her head. As though they were made of china. "Students getting all out of sorts…causing trouble…"

"Shaddup." Mush muttered under his breath.

Whatever had been in the room with him, it hadn't been students, that was for sure. He couldn't explain it. They had knocked Mondie out, then had congregated around him, all smiling eerily. And then they had gone. Exploded into ashes! It made no sense. And Shade had done it. She seemed to know what she was doing, as though she had dealt with these types of…of things before.

Gemini and Blink were beside him, staring at Mondie, each thinking their own thoughts. The blood had been cleaned from the girls temple, but a bruise had formed, pushing against the skin. It scared Gemini. She and Blink had checked the room afterwards, but there was no one there. Just dust all over the floor, almost like a sand box. The girl in the next room claimed that the largest group she had there were only four. 

Where did they go?

Shade and Jack had departed long before, claiming they had to finish off some kind of "business". Mush couldn't see what was more important than finding out if Mondie was okay or not, but each to his own, he supposed.

He sighed and put the hair band on the pillow next to her head. He had some waiting to do.

+ 

"There's so many of 'em." Jack muttered under his breath, as the two of them climbed the stairs to the second floor. Shade gave him a look.

"_Obviously_, Jack." She drawled. "Kids runnin' around, unsupervised, dressed up with blood all over them, conveniently nancin' around in empty rooms. It's a field day for them." She glanced into a room that they passed, but could only see two girls who were obviously off duty chatting idly. She pulled her stake out of her belt. "Are they all Spot's men?"

"No. There are lots of clans." Jack replied, pushing open the door where they had found Gemini and Blink. It, too, was empty. Shade shrugged, and strode across the room, reaching for the door handle of the next one.

"Wait!" Jack snapped, grabbing onto her shoulder. "Shade! We don't know how many of them are in there!"

"Well, I don't know how many are in there, but I will when I go in." She smirked, and added in mock terror; "And if you don't go in after me, I might just die!" With that, she turned, pulled the door open, and strode into the darkness. 

"Damn it!" He cursed, then ran after her. 

"Calm down, there ain't nothing in here." She replied, over her shoulder. He sighed and grabbed at her arm. 

"That was real stupid of you." He said, shoving her slightly, his fingers still clenched around the flesh.

"_I'm_ real stupid." She replied, sliding the stake back into her belt. She glanced down at his hand on her arm, then up at his eyes. He made the mistake of staring back. Then his fingers trailed down to her wrist, then onto her own. They joined hands.

"Comon." He murmured. "Only one room left."

"Then let's go!" She said impatiently, turning and walking towards the door. He pulled her back, then opened it. 

Nothing. 

Shade stared around the room, disappointed. She hadn't been lying to Jack when she had told him that slaying got her just a _little _worked up. But she couldn't ask for too much. She was lucky she got to slay at _all_.

"You wanna go back to your dorm or something?" He asked suddenly. 

+ 

"Guys! This here's Faith." 

Misprint clenched his fingers between her own and stared around the room in terror. Vampires were perched in various places around the chamber, all turning their cold gazes to her.

She had no idea where this lair was. Spot had blinded her as he led her through the streets. All she knew is that she was far away from the boarding school, far away from Bumlets, Jack, Chaos and Dutchy. Just when she really needed them too. 

The room was spacious, and gave off the feeling that it had been lived in and used for a very long time indeed. A girl with straight brown hair and a nobly shaped face was sitting on the lap of a dirty blonde boy. His hand was on her hip, and he was staring at Misprint in a way that made her feel calculated. 

"Gonna introduce me?" Misprint asked bitterly. Spot glanced at her condescendingly, before turning and sweeping the lair with his eyes.

"Where's Harlem and Flo?" He demanded.

"Hunting." A beautiful redhead in dark leather pants said in a bored voice, playing idly with a stake. "I picked off twelve today." She added.

"An' I got five." The brunette said as the blonde boy tried to get her attention by pressing his lips against her throat. Misprint stared. There were faint bite marks in the skin. She resisted the urge to touch her own. 

"Great, great…" Spot said dismissively. "But I ain't got time to hear the news. Misprint and I are going to be upstairs." He smirked. "No one's to disturb us. Understood?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." A girl rolled her eyes. Misprint stared in anxiety at the long scar down the side of her face. 

She looked at the redhead carefully. The girl looked sullen and aloof, but her eyes were determined when they landed on the stake. She picked off twelve today? She was a _slayer_? No, she had to be talking about humans. But what was with the stake?

Spot swept her towards the stair case, and gave her a small push, to send her up. She paused only a moment, before stepping onto the first stair. Spot turned and gave the blonde a look. He rolled his eyes, shifted the girl slightly as he dug into his pocket, then pulled out a switch blade and tossed it to Spot, who smirked in thanks, and turned to guide Misprint up the stairs. 

The edges of the steps were determined by the candles radiating soft light up and down the stairwell. She bit her lip, and felt his fingers on her waist. Her stomach flopped horribly. She didn't want to die. She may have been orphaned and hurt and had her hopes crushed thousands of times, but she didn't want to end it all. Life had that horrible way of holding a tantalising hope in front of you that was just out of reach, and Misprint still believed she could reach it. She sighed and tried to break the silence.

"What was that girl talkin' about?" She asked. "About the twelve she had…"

"Ah…" he smirked. "Can't tell you that. We don't want you running off and telling your li'l slayer friends." Misprint said nothing. 

The hallway was dark, the candles long since burned down. He pulled her off into a room, which was bare, except for a bed and a dresser. There were candles balanced on almost every possible flat surface, illuminating the room in a soft glow. Misprint watched him close the door behind the both of them, then turn to her, a smirk on his face, his eyes glimmering in the soft shadows. 

He pushed his fingers into her hair, while his other hand strayed to her waist. She bit her lip harder, feeling her teeth dig into the flesh. He slowly pushed her backwards, until the back of her shins hit the bed. She toppled backwards onto it, pushing herself up before her head could hit the mattress. He straddled her lap and pushed his lips onto hers.

"Spot…" She tried to say through the fire of the kiss.

"Yeah Mis?" he whispered, his fingers running gently up and down her throat.

"Please don't make me." He paused for a moment, and his icy grey-blue eyes met her violent cerulean ones, and he caught the flash of fear in them. It was intoxicating. He felt his fingers slide down the middle of her body and dig at the tight elastic of the capris against her skin.

"Don't worry Mis. It won't be anything like the last time. I promise." He murmured. He leaned over her, making her fall backwards onto the mattress. "No pain."

"Promise?"

"Promise. I wouldn't hurt you." He whispered, his tongue drawing her lips open.

She fought down a scream as he tugged at the waistband of her pants. But the threat about Shade lingered in her mind as his lips hungrily caught at hers. She didn't want any of her friends to get hurt. It wasn't their problem.

His lips left hers and he dove towards her neck, trailing his tongue along the scars. She groaned and grabbed his hair.

"Don't…" She pleaded, feeling her eyes water. She blinked, but the tears gathered harder. She was on the verge of breaking down on his shoulder, but couldn't. She couldn't expose a weakness! "You said…"

"I lied." He smirked. She heard the click of a switch blade. Her eyes widened.

A thin line of pain drew itself across her abdomen. 

She screamed.

+ 

"What the fuck…" Mondie muttered. Mush shot up immediately.

"I wasn't asleep…" He stammered desperately, his words dampened by slumber. His eyes adjusted to the darkness of the sick room. The nurse was long gone, and the sterility of the room was getting to him. But Mondie had spoken. 

"Mondie?" He asked, leaning forwards and brushing her hair back from her face. She cringed.

"Don't!" She said, in a voice just under a yell. Her eyes snapped open, and he could see her pupils expand, the light rays too small to harm her. She blinked, and stared up at Mush. Recognition flashed over her face. "Oh. Hi."

"You're okay!"

"I should hope so." She said, trying to sit up. Mush hastily pressed two hands onto her shoulders and pushed her back down. "Mush…" She whined.

"Mondie, you almost had a concussion!" He told her. She stared at him in disbelief, then poked at her temple.

"OW!"

"Shh…" He brushed back her hair again and trailed a finger down the soft line of her cheek bone. The makeup had long since been washed off by the nurse, with a disapproving cluck. Mush smirked softly. It had been kind of cute. Mondie the Cat. 

"What happened to your ears?" She asked suddenly. He furrowed his brows, then quickly brushed a hand over his ears, then realised she meant the dog ones.

"Oh." He grinned sheepishly. "I took them off. They were gettin' itchy."

"Mmm hmm." She said sleepily. 

"You feel okay?"

"No." She said grumpily.

"Oh…" He trailed off. Then he realised, with embarrassment, his hand was still sketching the curves of her face. He summoned his courage, then slowly trailed it along the lines of her lips. She stared up at him, unblinking. He pulled his hand away, self-conscious. Mondie saw the small flush that crept up his neck. She laughed, grabbed the back of his neck, pulled him down to her level, and kissed him. 

+ 

Stephen shot up suddenly, his sheets soaked with sweat. She had gone to the dance. And had left with _him_. 

"Damn it." He cursed, closing his eyes and focusing on her. He could almost feel what she did. The cut across her abdomen, the angry scars on her arms and thighs. And the wound on her neck…torn open again…Misprint…

He crossed the room in irate strides and flicked the light on. His room mate was out at the dance, so it wasn't like he was going to disturb anyone. He was sore all over, just like she, no doubt, was too. 

He couldn't believe he had come back to New York. It had happened a long time ago…ten years was it now?…but he could have just stayed in Washington and had been fine. Maybe Misprint was the one that brought him back. She was involved with the same person _he_ had been involved with so long ago…Maybe it was the city itself. It had this sort of magic that kept you coming back, or pining for it. 

"Why'd you do it, Mis?" He asked, sitting down at his desk and cradling his head in his hands. There came no answer. Maybe she wasn't listening. Maybe she didn't want to. Maybe she was having the time of her life. No, the burning pain was enough to guarantee he was hurting her. 

Stephen sighed and slammed his fists down on the desk. He knew she was going through torture that he himself knew about. But he couldn't stop her. She _wanted_ the pain and torture and whatever it was.

And there was no way he could stop her if he was going up against Spot. 


	10. ten

****

Ten

Misprint woke up with a jolt, her face pressed into the lines of his chest. Vivid memories flicked across her mind, and she could taste her own blood on her lips.

She shut her eyes tight and shook him slightly.

"Spot." She said, her voice colder than she had ever heard it herself. He only shifted slightly, pressing her closer against him. She shivered violently. His skin felt like frost. "Spot, wake up now."

He groaned and stretched, elegantly, like a cat. "What is it, Mis?" He drawled sleepily. 

"I want you to take me home." She said, her voice sounding small and lost in the chill and spaciousness of the room. 

"What? Leaving so soon?" he smirked, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, then brushing her hair back from her face. She flinched at his touch, and then pulled away. His long fingers brought about the cuts on the insides of her thighs.

"Whadda you think?" She snapped, grabbing her tank top and straightening it, to pull it on. But she stopped, staring at the hem in horror. It was torn open, and blood stains all over it. She gulped back her tears, which she knew had no doubt already spilled over that night anyways, and pulled it on. She dressed fast, holding back sobs, while he lay in bed and watched her.

"Mis, there ain't no need to hurry." He glanced outside. "It's two in the morning."

"I'm going back to my dorm." She said firmly, shakily brushing her hair back from her face and running her fingers through it to spike it up. He sighed, pulled on his pants, and stood, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her towards him. She winced as his arm brushed against a cut. 

"I'll walk you." He said softly. She shook her head and tried to push him away. "Mis, don't be stupid." He rolled his eyes and leaned in to kiss her, but she jerked her head backwards. 

He felt a slight twinge in his heart when she turned her face away. She was acting as all the others had, they had despised him at first as well. But they had warmed up to him. But he could _sense _the ice in her. And it wasn't melting.

His long fingers wrapped themselves around her shoulders, and pushed her backwards, not too harshly, but enough to make her stumble.

"Fine." He growled. "Walk home. Get mugged. See if I care." He turned his back on her and reached for a pack of cigarettes on the bedside table. Misprint felt a spark in her stomach, felt her brows furrow.

"Yeah, why not. Since I've already got rape under my belt." She spat, before she could stop herself. He paused, then glanced over his shoulder in what seemed like a nonchalant manner, even though his eyes flashed with something she couldn't decipher in time.

"Guess it's no good telling you that I went easy on you this time, huh?" He murmured, pulling a cigarette out of the box and wrapping his lips around the end. "Seeing as…y'know…" His lips twisted into a mocking smirk. "It's your first time and all."

"Easy." She repeated, emboldened by the mildly gentle response. "Great. That's just great. If that's an easy first, I can't _wait_ to feel the second."

"I was thinking of this as more of a one night stand." He lied easily, grabbing a lighter from the same table and flicking it open. The moment the flame clicked on, something sparked again in Misprint's stomach, and her fingers tingled. Heated. She stuffed them into her pockets and frowned. He took a deep drag, smiled, then reached over, fluidly grabbed the belt loop and pulled her towards him. "But I guess a second time can be arranged…"

Misprint felt her stomach contort, as his hands circled around her waist and pressed her torso against his. The cigarette was too close for comfort, hovering before her lips. She twisted her head away, strained her neck, and pushed her tingling hands against his chest.

"Let go." She ordered. He laughed through the cigarette and dragged her towards the rumpled bed, the scent of smoke and blood making her head pound. "Spot, I said…"

"Comon, Mis." He shifted the cigarette over to the corner of his mouth and pulled her down on top of him, immune to her hands, which were beating at his shoulders and scratching at his chest in an effort to get away. 

"Spot!" She yelled, trying to push herself off. He caught the movement, and easily flipped her over, pushing her into the covers and straddling her, the cigarette hovering over her face, the smell making her sick. She choked and twisted her head away. The same panic that pulsed in her stomach the night before was starting to return, throbbing in her wounds and making her throat twist up into a corkscrew. He smirked at her again, before removing the cigarette with two fingers and holding it lightly above her face, tracing the curves of her eyes in the air.

"You'll have to excuse the bad pillow talk…" he murmured lightly. "But you were a real wildcat last night."

"Fuck you." She spat, turning to look at him again. She caught sight of the cigarette and let out a frightened breath, her face flushing slightly. Her hands felt as though they were on fire, pulsing with a fervent heat. He smiled, tracing her face in the air, lingering on the contours of her lips. He let the cigarette float closer and closer over her mouth, until she could feel the putrid stench of it against her skin. She whimpered, and tried to push her head back into the bed as far as it would go.

"You should learn to relax." He told her softly, watching the way the red tip drew fiery lines in the semi-darkness. "Besides." He smiled gently and leaned in, his breath echoing in her ears. "You'd look real pretty with a few burns here and there…"

"Don't!" She blurted, her hand shooting up and grabbing at his wrist. To both their surprise, she held fast, her fingers tightening until they throbbed. Spot jerked his hand backwards, but her fingers remained tight as ever, as persistent as ever. He glanced at her with a look that resembled perplexity, and tried to press his hand forwards towards her face, but she resisted, pressing back just as strongly.

Spot's mind curled with slight apprehension. How was she holding him off? How was it that a teenage girl had an equal amount of strength as her vampiric captor? He could feel the tingle against his skin, flowing from her hand, a fiery determination that made him feel tight in his chest, made him want to lean down and capture her lips in his and never let her go. With a last, irritated jerk, he freed his wrist, his fingers feeling numb against the cigarette.

"Let me go." She said, ever ounce of fear wiped from her voice. "You've had your fun. I want to go home." 

"Fun." He smirked. "You don't know the half of it."

"Put out the fucking cigarette and let me go." 

"Comon, Mis." He wheedled, trying to regain control. His fingers caught the hem of her shirt and slid it upwards over her stomach. The skin felt smooth and cool. He could almost feel the burn of the cigarette just by thinking about it, and it made him feel as though touching every inch of this girl would never be enough.

"I said no…"

"You've said no enough times tonight." He said, almost snarling. With an air that was quite unlike his old elegance, he shoved the cigarette towards her face until it nearly hit her lips. She could feel the concentrated burn, and suddenly felt cold all over. The tingling was gone. "It's either you or one of your friends. Understood?"

Misprint raised her eyes to his, and saw the need in them. It made her feel strange inside her stomach, to realize that he was doing this because he wanted to feel her, not because he wanted her to feel him. It would have been a nice feeling, were it not for the cigarette poised dangerously above her lips. She sent him her meanest glare. 

"Understood." She hissed. He smiled, jerked the cigarette away from her and placed it between his lips again.

"I'll walk you home." He repeated, lifting her shirt higher and lowering his face to her stomach.

+ 

Shade peeked around the corner, and seeing that the bony, sharp figure of Mrs. Mayen wasn't in sight, sighed in relief. She hated the woman, and getting Jack down to her dorm room might have been complicated if she had been in the vicinity.

"Quick." She hissed over her shoulder. "Before that old battle axe figures out you're here."

"She really that bad?" He asked absently, as they jogged down the empty hallways.

"You don't know the half of it." She smirked. 

Shade pushed open the door to the room, then turned around, as though she was a game show host, and flung her arms out. "Welcome to our lair!"

"It's rivals a junk yard." He scoffed. She rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, but I've learned to live with it." A silence passed as he stood awkwardly in the doorway. She grabbed an Archie comic off a pile of CDs, tossed it at him, and put her hands on her hips. "I thought it was rude to lurk in doorways." She said cynically. He raised his eyebrows, then closed the door behind him. The Archie comic dropped to the floor.

Shade stretched out across her bed, grabbed her walkman, which she and Misprint had hooked up to a pair of computer speakers, and pressed the play button. She was still pretty disdainful of the boy who sat uncomfortably on a chair across from her, and didn't feel the need to be some kind of host. He had wanted to go to her dorm, well here it was. She didn't even want to consider the _other_ meaning that sentence could possibly hold…

"How long have you and Misprint lived here?" He asked casually, as a slow Sloan song began to play.

"Since ever." She replied, not breaking her gaze from the screen. "We're orphans."

"Yeah. Me too." He shrugged. She glanced up at him, but quickly looked back when she saw he was staring at her. She shifted uncomfortably, and closed her eyes, focusing on the music. She wished Dutchy were sitting across from her, either that, or Chaos or Bumlets. Someone with whom she could chat with easily. But Jack was a hard nut to crack.

"Why'd you wanna come up here anyways?" She asked uncomfortably. His eyes lifted from the floor and caught at hers. 

"I thought that much'd be obvious." He said, with a little smirk.

+ 

Spot and Misprint paused outside the tenement. She wormed her fingers out of his grasp, and glared at him.

"You can go now." She said hotly.

"I said I'd walk you."

"Spot, I think I can make it to my room without getting _too_ roughed up." She rolled her eyes. He smirked.

"Strange. You weren't able to make it from the dance floor to the alley without getting…" he raised his eyebrows. "Roughed up." 

Misprint whirled around and pushed through the doors, dearly hoping Mrs. Mayen wasn't standing on the other side.

She slammed the door behind her, and pressed her self against it, as though she could stop him bursting through it. But there was no response. She pushed away from it and ran her fingers through her hair. What the hell had just happened to her?

She didn't want to think about it, because she knew the memories would come back. So she turned and walked numbly up the stairs, wincing as the fishnet dug into the cuts on her legs. Why had she put them back on? 

The hallways were dark and shadowy. She stiffened at every creak in the floor, in a kind of dulled panic. She pulled her key out from the pocket of her capris and shoved it into the lock, turning it one way and tugging at the knob. But she had locked it.

It had already been unlocked.

A brief wave of dread swept over her, until she realised that Shade must have gotten back early. It gave her slight relief, but not much. By the light streaming from under the door, she could tell her friend was still awake. She looked down at her torn tank top and bloodstained legs. How was she going to explain that?

Misprint had learnt and seen a lot of strange things that night. But nothing prepared her for what she saw when she unlocked the door and pushed in. 

Jack had Shade pressed up against the wall of their dorm, his hands on her ribcage, under the fabric of her shirt. The top hat was on the floor, and her hair was messed and static, as though he had run his fingers through it. Her black lipstick was smudged, and her hands were hastily tugging at the fabric of his shirt, trying to pull it over his head.

"Uh…" Misprint stammered. They didn't hear her. Misprint paused in contemplation. She didn't want to break this up. All Shade had ever wanted was happening. But she also wanted bed, and sleep, and a sudden, violent loss of memory. She knew that the latter wasn't going to happen, though.

"Guys?" Misprint asked in a choked voice. She cleared her throat. "Guys!" They still didn't answer. She sighed, slammed the door behind her, probably a bit too louder than was wise, and yelled. "HEY!" 

Shade pulled away in annoyance and slight fear, but relaxed in somewhat of an annoyed state when she saw it was Misprint. She was too dazzled to take in her friends appearance.

"Mis…not now…" She groaned. Jack glanced over his shoulder at her, and sighed.

"I'd love to leave you two to this…" She began.

"Whassa matter?" Shade rolled her eyes. "It had better be a matter of life or death."

"Just about." Misprint said, her voice scaling higher than normal. 

"I gotta get back to my dorm." Jack said, to fill up the silence, sounding resigned.

"But…but…" Shade stammered.

"It's just that…"

Before he could even reply, Misprint heard the door knob rattle. She leapt forwards just in time. She avoided getting hit by the door that burst open, but didn't avoid what was coming.

Mrs. Mayen was standing there, looking almost like an angry bull, her eyes taking in the scene. Misprint winced, and Shade hastily pushed Jack away. But it was too late. The woman may have been cruel as all get out, but she wasn't stupid, and she wasn't making incorrect conclusions at the state of the situation.

"I thought I heard someone coming in." She sneered. "What is going on here?"

"Uh…we're practising for a play." Shade burst out. Misprint rolled her eyes over to her friend.

__

Good one, Shade, she thought cynically. _We're practising for a play at two in the morning._.

"I find that very hard to believe, Alyson." She said, raising both eyebrows. Before Shade could reply, Ms. Mayen snapped out the next order. "Jack Kelly. Back to your dorm room _this instant_. You are all suspended from your classes for three days. To make up for lost time, you will complete your school work in detention."

Misprint stared at the ground. She was too tired to fight back, and try and provoke the woman, even though it was their favourite activity.

"The principle will certainly learn of this." She was sniffing. 

Alyson felt her racing heart calm down. Her heart rate had been going way too fast anyways when Jack kissed her. But this wasn't exactly the best way to end that little session. She sighed and pushed her hair back from her face. Jack glanced over at her, and as their eyes met, they shared a secret smile, unbeknownst to the raving keeper. Shade tried to catch Misprint's eyes, but she was staring so determinedly at the floor, Shade had no chance. She furrowed her brows. Something was wrong with her friend, it didn't take a genius to figure that out.

"A'right, a'right, I'm going." Jack said, raising his hands in the world known "I'm arrested" gesture. He exchanged another brief look with Shade, a smirk, and then followed Ms. Mayen out of the room.

Shade smiled, and then collapsed onto her bed, a dreamy look in her eyes. Misprint smiled, for her sake, and then made a beeline for the bathroom.

"Ain't he wonderful, Mis?" She called.

"Yeah." Misprint's voice replied. Somewhat absently, but Shade was too lost in her dream world to care. "It was quite a _wonderful_ predicament you got the both of us into."

"'Ey! You helped!" She snapped. "He's…he's a really good kisser."

"Great."

"I know. And he said we should get together later on. He's dumped Amy for good."

"Fantastic."

"Ain't it? I'm so glad. She's such a…"

"That's great, Shade. Really."

"Well you should talk!" Shade laughed. "Where were _you_ all night? With Stephen?"

"Shade. Shut up." Misprint said, through gritted teeth.

"Comon Mis. Spill…"

"OW!" Misprint yelled. She quickly bit her lip to stop the noise, but it had already escaped. She had peeled the tank top from her skin, but had unknowingly ripped open a scab. There was a deadly silence from the next room.

"Mis? You okay?" She asked, her voice suddenly intent with concern. Misprint hastily closed the door.

"Just fine!" She called, slightly panicky, trying not to let it show.

"You don't sound like it."

"I jus'…stubbed my toe." She said lamely.

"Yeah. Right." Shade knocked on the door three times, but Misprint only slid the bolt back into place. "Mis? Seriously, whassa matter?" 

"Nothing!" Misprint yelled, but her voice was choked by dry sobs. 

"Open the door." Shade ordered in a quiet voice. Misprint swiped at her eyes and looked down at her body. There was no way she could conceal this. She squeezed her eyes shut and slowly wrenched the door open.

She kept her eyes shut, in her safe little haven. If she couldn't see Shade, Shade couldn't see her. Unfortunately, her childhood theory proved very wrong indeed. She could hear Shade's sharp intake of breath as her eyes brushed over her friend, looking suddenly pale and small in the bathroom. Her bra was stained with blood, and there were bloodstains and scars decorating what seemed to be every inch of her torso, dancing down her arms and legs. Worst of all were the vicious, angry red burns that had been twisted into the skin along her rib cage, following the contour of her body, like a string of pearls.

"Oh…Christ…" She murmured, moving to the cupboard and yanking it open. She pulled out the bottle of Bactine. "What happened?"

"I don't wanna talk about it." Misprint mumbled, wrapping her arms around her stomach. They brushed against the long scar across her abdomen. Shade gritted her teeth, grabbed her friends shoulders, and turned her around once. She understood immediately. The vampiric bites on her throat were fresh, and carved into the small of her back were two, jagged letters. 

****

S.C.

+ 

Spot pulled on his black shirt as he descended the stairs. His thoughts were as indifferent as ever, as he swung into the common room. His men were perched in their various places, but they were subdued. He arched and eyebrow.

"What's goin' on?" He asked suspiciously. It was just then he noticed Rosie, Trip, and Skull missing. And Flo. This made him a little bit anxious. When those three, combined, were missing, he knew there was trouble. And not the good kind either.

"Flo's in trouble." Scratch finally replied, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "Rosie's gone to find her."

"Flo? In trouble?" Spot smirked. "Gimme a break. That kid can worm outta trouble faster than any of us can." His response was met by dully bored stares.

"Not this time." Harlem said softly.

+ 

Flo screamed out in agony as Hornet slid another knife along the skin of her arms. Holy water dripped slowly onto her burning flesh. Pain shot through Flo like ice in her blood. Hornet slit her wrist and filled a wine glass with her scarlet blood. He brought the glass to his lips and took a sip of the potent liquid within. He sneered down at the torn girl and placed the glass on a table near him. There were scars all over her small form. She no longer looked child like and innocent, but battered and abused. The scarring and pain on the surface was pale in comparison to the tearing and scaring of the holy water that had been poured down her throat. 

"Flo, my dear little girl." Slade's voice was smooth and satin "Why don't you tell us Spot's weakness? Then we can feed you, release you . . ."

Flo licked her parched lips, the offer was tempting, and she had lost so much blood. Flo's eyes fluttered closed, in her mind she saw the fresh blood pouring over her lips and into her veins. The young girl shook her head she wouldn't betray Spot. Never.

"Not a chance." she snarled. She resented her loyalty to Spot when Hornet, wearing a thick leather glove, pressed a cross to her bared stomach. Flo screamed and shrieked as burning pain drove all other thought from her mind. Her tortured body was writhing in agony as she slowly lost her mind from wave after wave of pain. Hornet's laughter echoed in her mind. She thought of the others, of Rosie to keep herself sane. Of Skitch and Killer, who were even now probably making out in the lair.

"Flo," Slade's voice grew stern, he didn't want to call on the power he had denounced so long ago but if all else failed . . . "Flo, I want to know his weakness now."

"Common goily." urged Hornet "You do want the pain to end, don'tcha?"

"I won't betray Spot and the others." Flo's voice sounded surer then she felt and she was glad for that. Hornet backhanded her across the face. Smirking he stabbed a thumb tack into the tip of her finger, wedging it between her finger nail and the skin. Again Flo cried out. 

"For fuck's sake girl, tell me already!"

Hornet smirked and wedged her mouth open holding a vial of holy water before her. Flo's body already screamed with agony and she knew she couldn't take any more. Sobbing she told Slade about Misprint. Slade smiled at her and nodded his head, he gestured to Carver who poured the holy water down her throat. Flo's screams echoed through the empty warehouse. All of a sudden, they heard the sound of the door bursting open.

"You shouldn't pick on little goils." admonished Rosie. Flanking her were Skull and Trip, two of Spot's best fighters. Slade snarled up at her.

"How did you find us?" His voice was a feral growl. The beautiful vampire only laughed, her voice echoing.

"Didn't you know blood calls to blood?" Rosie cocked her head to one side "I turned her. I gave her a charm to call on me, though she didn't know she had it. I felt her call me."

"Bitch," snarled Carver who threw himself at her. Rosie's red hair glinted like blood as Carver impaled himself on her raised stake. Rosie shook her head and Trip moved to untie Flo. The large vampire cradled the girl gently in his arms and hurried out the door, Skull with him to watch his back. 

"Sorry to spoil you plans." Rosie dropped a quick curtsy and was gone before Slade could speak.

+ 

Mondie awoke suddenly, feeling a burning pain at the top of her head. She winced, and wondered if it had anything to do with the knock to the temple, which was throbbing sickeningly at the side of her scalp. But this pain…it felt more like fire.

She groaned and pressed her fingers to the wound, checking for blood or scars, but felt nothing. Only her skin underneath her thick brown hair. She thought briefly of buzzing for the nurse, but realized that it wouldn't make her feel better at all. Probably even worse.

The only person she wanted to call was Mush.

It took her a long time to get back to sleep.

+ 

"Rosie?" Flo asked. Her lips were thick with pain, and the stars above her hurt to look at. They seemed so bright, like millions of miniature suns. 

"Yeah?" Rosie asked, not even looking down at her, cradled in the minions arms. Her brown eyes were scanning the streets warily, her stake clutched in her hand. Rosie could be quite vicious when she wanted to. Flo knew that first hand.

"You really gave me a charm? To keep me safe?" She asked hopefully. Only now did Rosie steal a glance at her face. The eagerness in it made her smirk.

"Don't let it get to yer head, kid." She advised, twirling the stake between her fingers.

+ 

Gemini woke up, subconsciously burrowing deeper into her warm cove of covers. The day was cold, and the boarding school wasn't big with the extra heating. The missing pane on her window definitely contributed to the ice in the air.

Finally hauling herself out of bed, she relinquished the heat that she had stored in her body, and crossed the room, grabbing a towel off the back of a chair. This she stuffed into the gap between the glass and wood, and hugged her arms to her torso, feeling the warmth being slowly drawn out of her. She was weary, and would have loved nothing more than to sidle back to her bed and collapse into sleep.

But she had answers to find.

She pulled on a pair of baggy blue jeans and a sweatshirt, then brushed her hair back into a ponytail. Small strands of hair that escaped the elastic stuck up from her head like springs in a broken mattress. She wrinkled her nose and tried to smooth them down.

Her slightly bent wings and clothes were folded on a chair. She liked the memories that were attached to them. Well…she thought soberly of Mondie, blood trickling from the wound on her temple. _Some_ of them. She thought daringly of sneaking past Mr. Kloppman and visiting Blink, but she had more important issues to deal with.

Like what had happened last night.

She sighed and pulled on her running shoes. They were covered in signatures and symbols drawn in cheap blue pen ink. They were her personality all over again. Just like almost every other thing she owned. She pushed the door open and strode down the hallway to Shade and Misprint's room, blissful in the wake of the fact she wasn't wearing the standard kilt-and-tie that she had grown so wearisome of. 

She paused in front of their door, and listened in for the tell tale sounds of life. None were evident, and she wondered if she should come back later. But, on second thought, she figured she deserved answers. So, deciding to brave the wrath of the girls early morning natures, she raised her fist and knocked firmly three times on the door. 

There was still silence from inside, except for a muffled yelp. She smirked slightly, then knocked again. She noted a few suppressed thumps, and then a curse. Gemini rolled her eyes. They were obviously not morning people. She couldn't blame them.

The door scraped open and she saw Shade standing there, hair tousled and eyes angry. 

"Gem?" She asked, her stance softening slightly. Shade and Gemini hadn't been all that familiar with each other, but she wasn't about to get too angry with the girl for waking her up early. She couldn't blame her. After the events of last night, she must be damn confused. However, she was antsy to let her in. It would mean Misprint's return to consciousness, something she wasn't aiming for at the moment. She was bound to be unlike her regular self, snippy and defensive.

"The one an' only." Gemini answered lightly. Shade began to wonder if the girl could even remember what had happened. She was certainly acting as though it had just been a fun filled night, and nothing more. "Sorry for waking you."

"No problem." Shade said distractedly. Her brain was still trying to start functioning fast enough to process information. First and foremost was the fact her best friend was sliced and diced by an infamous vampire gang leader, second and almost foremost was the fact that Jack had his hands up her shirt, and third was chocolate. Gemini's words weren't making much sense, muffled by a huge pile of memories. "Can I help you?"

"I was just wondering if we could talk." Gemini said softly. Shade tensed. She remembered. She spoke gently enough, but there was real meaning under her words. Shade's eyes flicked back to Misprint, who was still in the confines of slumber, or so it would appear to the untrained eye.

"Uh…can it be later? Misprint's having a bit of a hangover." She lied valiantly. Misprint hardly ever was drunk. "I don't want her to wake up and…y'know. Bite your head off, or something."

"Oh…Sure." Gemini said easily. Shade's eyes were distracted. It was obvious she was hiding something. It bugged Gemini, she figured she had a right to know. Whatever had happened had almost killed Mondie. But she shrugged it off. "I'll go visit Mondie in the infirmary."

"Good idea." Shade said, a little to eagerly. Gemini really wasn't in the mood to press for answers. She raised her fingers in a little goodbye, which Shade returned, then promptly had the door slammed before her.

She sneered slightly. Talk about your morning amnesia. She stuffed her hands in her pockets and sidled down the hall. Even though Shade had said nothing, her fears were slightly alleviated. Nothing was terribly wrong, not to her knowledge or responsibility, at least, and Mondie was definitely going to live through whatever the hell had happened. And Blink had kissed her. The last was a shining memory that was tenderly being replayed in every cell and sensory nerve she had in her skin. She smiled, feeling warmer already, even though the temperature was the same as it had been a few minutes ago.

She was grateful for the fact that they had the day off. It hadn't come easily. It had taken a hell of a lot of debate, since Halloween wasn't exactly the greatest Catholic holiday to observe_._ After all, wasn't it those pesky Pagans that it had originated from anyways? Gemini grinned. She really had nothing against other religions, even though the priest was constantly preaching against straying from your faith and yadda yadda yadda. She couldn't exactly say she paid the best of attention in church.

She walked into the main building and headed down to the infirmary, wondering if Mondie had even awakened. She wasn't usually a morning person, but it was as though she was on an infallible sugar high. Her steps were kind of jerky and uneven, but she wasn't sure if it was from exhaustion or the fact that she was still carrying the essence of some of the magic she had possessed last night. 

She knocked on the door of the sick room, hesitant this time. She didn't want to wake Mondie up. She knew Shade would have been indignant that Gemini had no hesitation in waking herself up so readily, but she figured what Shade didn't know couldn't hurt her. Fortunately, she heard Mondie's voice, a little dampened by sleep call; "Who's there?"

"It's me. Gem." Gemini replied.

"Come on in. Whaddaya waiting out there for?" She yelled grumpily. Gemini smiled and pushed the door open. She knew her friends crabbiness was because of the morning. True to her instincts, Mondie was looking pretty wiped out indeed. "Feelin' okay, Monds?" Gemini asked, going to sit by her bed. The cat hair band was placed on the bedside table, and her hair was spread out on the pillow the same way it had when she had fallen backwards onto the floor in the haunted house.

"Do I look like I'm having the time of my life?" She asked, rather cantankerously, but then her features sifted into a silly smile. "Actually, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't."

"What happened?" 

"Mush." She replied happily, closing her eyes. Gemini laughed.

"So the date was a success, I take it?"

"Except for the fact that I got knocked out, yes." She smiled. Then it shifted into a frown as a spasm of pain crossed her face. "_And_ this incredibly dappy pain in my head."

"Your temple?" Gemini asked sympathetically. Mondie shook her head, her eyes more confused than irritated. 

"Nah. Two spots." The places she pointed out were the same ones her "cat ears" had been. Gemini shrugged.

"Weird. It'll probably disappear in the next half hour or something."

"Maybe I'm bleedin' from the inside." She said thoughtfully. Gemini stiffened.

"Don't say that."

"I was only jokin', Gem." She laughed. Gemini couldn't help but smile again. It was good to see her let up, especially after the intensity in her voice a minute ago. But in a few seconds, she was back to business.

"You talked to Shade yet?" She asked, dropping her voice to a whisper, as though there were people around to hear. 

"Well, technically yes. But I didn't learn anything."

"Oh." There was a silence. Gemini swallowed, then pushed forth with a plucky question.

"You got any of your own theories?"

"One…but it's whack." Mondie grinned, but in spite of her foolish air, her eyes were troubles.

"How so?'

"So in the way that it deals with fictional creatures. Like dragons. And unicorns."

"It didn't sound like you were marvelling at a unicorn in there." Gemini said sternly. Mondie rolled her eyes.

"Seriously Gem. I think…I don't know what I think. But…" She sighed. "They really reminded me a'…"

A sterile sounding voice made them both jump.

"Did I say I was allowing visitors?" As though she was a ghost, the nurse emerged from the shadows, her curls impeccably in place. Gemini guiltily jumped to her feet and wondered how much the nurse had over heard. The last thing she needed was for Mondie and herself to be carted away to a mental ward. 

"Sorry ma'am." She said in her most innocent voice. "I was just checking to see if my best friend was alright." Mondie tried to hold in her giggles. Gemini's voice had never sounded so virtuous. The nurse didn't soften.

"Out." She clucked, shooing Gemini away with her hands, as though she was a puppy. "Out, out, out!" Gemini turned and was able to exchange a look with Mondie before the door was shut in her face.

Mondie tuned out as the nurse started throwing rapid chatter at her as she took a pair of gloves and pulled them on. She instead thought of Mush. She wasn't surprised when she woke up and he wasn't there. The nurse obviously hadn't allowed him to stay any longer. Mondie wouldn't have minded.

"Just tilt your head slightly, dear." The nurse was saying. She was examining her scalp carefully, as though she was checking for lice. Mondie stiffened as her fingers brushed over the recently acquired sore spots. "Hmmm. What's this?"

"What's what?" Mondie asked, her tone curious.

"Are you sure you were only hit on the temple, dear?" the nurse asked, prodding gently at the bruises.

"Ow." Mondie muttered under her breath, as the nurse fired repeated pokes at her scalp. "Ow. Ow. Ow."

"I know this may hurt…" The nurse began. Mondie rolled her eyes. _Yeah, just a little, _she thought accusingly. 

"Ow." She added.

"You seem to have these two bruises here."

"I noticed. I don't know where they're from."

"Well isn't that the strangest thing…"

"Ow." She groaned. "Could you stop that please?"

"They look like they're growing…"

"Ow. Ow. OW!" She yelled, squeezing her eyes shut tightly, as though someone was trying to pore acid into her eye sockets.

"Stop squirming, dear." The nurse admonished gently. Mondie pulled away and rolled over onto her side. She couldn't be bothered with two bruises. They could have easily been acquired when she was being moved to the infirmary, or when her head hit the floor. It wasn't out of the norm. She tried a last question.

"Can Mush come in to see me?"

"Mr. Meyers? No. Too much excitement is bad for you in your condition." She said firmly. Mondie shut her eyes. This was going to be hell in the worst form possible. 

Gemini ambled out into the cool morning air. The wet leaves were spread across the lawn like clumps of butter on toast, and the blades of grass sparkled with rain. It must have poured while they were sleeping. She was about to cross the lawn to the girls tenement when two hands shut off her vision.

"Guess who." A familiar voice said mischievously. Her heart slowed slightly. It was safe to assume the girl was just a little jumpy. Her shoulders sagged as she fell back on a muscular chest.

"Blink." She groaned. He finally let her see again, and circled his arms around her waist. "Don't look at me."

"Why not?"

"I look like shit. I just woke up." She protested. He grinned and planted a kiss on top of her head. 

"Comon." He promised. "We'se gonna go find Mush, then we'll make Shade talk."

+ 

Shade had stumbled back into her bed and fallen dead asleep the minute she had closed the door. The lack of sleep she had been getting was definitely taking a toll on her body, and the need for slumber was irresistible.

Misprint heard her friends deep breathing, then pushed herself out of bed. She quickly ran her fingers through her hair, pulled it into spikes, then slid on her sneakers and made for the door. She glanced back once more at her friend to make sure she was still oblivious to her escape, then tiptoed into the hallway.

The walk to Stephen's dorm was a hard one to make. If she wanted to avoid Kloppman's questions and possible instructions, she had to climb up the side of the building.

She was really up to that, what with all the cuts across her back.

She climbed the fire escape, and hoped Racetrack wouldn't mind if she took a slight detour through his room. If he was sleeping, too bad.

She had heard Stephen talking to her all night, soothing her. And she had desperately needed to be relieved of some of her pain at that point. He told her he felt what she felt, and that she wasn't alone in this. And it helped. Not much, but it helped slightly.

She loved Shade. She reflected softly to herself as she climbed the fire escape. She loved her with all her heart, and would hate for anything to break them apart. But she couldn't possibly explain this feeling she got whenever Spot touched her. Even when it was just to tear her skin open, she needed it, as much as Shade had once needed the nuke. And she knew if she was deprived of it, there was no withdrawal. Throughout the years that they had known each other, shared secrets, shared hopes, shared downfalls…this was the first time she found she would not be able to confide in her and get the understanding she needed.

Only Stephen could fulfil this.

There was no way she could get evidence that Stephen had dealt with Spot. But she knew. And she wanted to talk with him. She felt like he was the only person on the earth, currently, who could help her.


	11. eleven

****

Eleven

When someone knocked on the door for the second time, Shade was good and ready to brutally maul the person on the other side. She groaned and ran a hand through her frazzled hair, already feeling exhausted to the bone. Why did people have to step in and make it worse?

Trying to tone down her homicidal instincts, she swung her feet to the floor and padded over to the door way, staring at the peeling white wash on the walls. Her brain was never able to function immediately when pulled from slumber.

She opened the door and felt her stomach drop when she saw Gemini, Mush, and Blink standing there, all serious expressions. She probably should have talked to Gemini at first to avoid this press conference. She sighed and tried to smile, but her lips stuck to her teeth. 

"I suppose you want answers." She said in defeat. 

"I know Mis is sleeping and everything…" Gemini began, but Shade cut her off. 

"Don't worry about Misprint. She's involved wid this as well." Her friends reluctance to talk was still pestering Shade, and she felt slightly irritated that she was so clammed up about it.

"Sorry to bug you…" Mush said, seeing the strained look on the girls face. Shade shrugged. 

"Come in. No use standing out in the hallway like this."

Despite Blink and Gemini's playful banter, the air around the four teens was serious indeed as the shuffled into the dorm room. Blink and Gemini had their fingers twined together, which made Mush even more despondent. But then again, that could have been because of Mondie's current state. Shade, herself, couldn't seem to get Jack out from the center of her brain. She was pretty sure he thought of last night as a fling that wouldn't have lasted more than two hours, but it was fun to pretend for a while…

"Where's Mis?" Gemini asked suddenly. Shade whirled around to find Misprint's silence was due, not to slumber, but to absence. The bed was empty. 

"I don't believe this!" Shade yelled, grabbing fistfuls of hair as though she was going to yank it out of her scalp. Gemini squeezed Blink's hand, which clearly meant one thing. _Maybe we should leave to avoid being splattered with gore when Shade finally blows._ Mush was indifferent, looking politely confused about Misprint not being in the same room, but it came as no emergency to him. Shade and Misprint were always wandering around somewhere without permission. Why was Shade blowing a fuse?

__

She'd better not be with who I think she's with, Shade told herself cryptically. Spot's face came to her mind and she growled under her breath. _Does she never learn?_

She tried to calm herself and think things over. The logical solution was to call Jack, get him to go find Misprint and kill Spot, whilst she explained the situation to Gemini, Blink, and Mush, who in turn would explain it to the hospitalised Mondie. But, feeling slightly greedy, she decided to let Jack explain this state of affairs. She glanced over at the stake lying on her bedside table. _She_ would go find Misprint.

"This changes everything." She informed the small group. "I'm calling Jack up."

"Jack's in on this?" Blink asked.

"Lots a' people are in on this." She said, raising her eyebrows. She grabbed a pair of jeans and a long black tee shirt and ducked into the bathroom to change, leaving the door open a crack so they could still hear her. "Dutchy, Bumlets, Chaos…"

"Well I'll be damned." Blink whistled. He counted the vast number of times he had passed them in the hall. They seemed perfectly normal. Too indifferent to be dealing with…whatever they were dealing with…he still had to find out. 

"So listen." She came out, fully dressed, and pulled her hair into a quick braid. "You guys stay in the dorm room and _do not leave. _Jack'll be over here in two seconds, if he knows what's good for him."

She picked up the small black phone each dorm room had in case of emergencies. _Damn straight this is an emergency,_ she thought, dialling in Jack's room number. It was answered after the first two rings.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Jack." She said. "It's me, Shade." She spoke quickly, so she could cut him off before he could tell her he hadn't meant it last night. "Misprint ain't here. I think she's over at Racetrack's or something, I'm gonna go look for 'er. Gemini, Blink, and Mush want to know the skinny. Get over here!"

"A'right, a'right!" He groaned. "Thanks for the short notice.."

"Any time, bud." She said, already good and prepared to slam the phone down and tear over to the boys dorm. If Misprint wasn't at Racetrack's, or Stephens, there was no telling where she'd be.

+ 

"Jesus!" Racetrack swore as he was pulled so rudely from his dream. His legs jerked, causing Misprint to tumble wildly off balance, then do a nose dive onto the cheap carpet. She quickly straightened and realised, in the full line of his furious, sleepy gaze, she couldn't hide. She grinned, kind of guiltily. The corners of her mouth felt stiff, she hadn't smiled in what seemed like ages. It lifted her spirits slightly, but not to cause a complete mood overhaul.

Just when she thought she'd never smile again.

"What the hell are you doing here, Mis?" he asked grumpily, ignoring the throbbing in his thigh, where her foot had landed. He couldn't forget the way she had been stalking him in grade two, and hoped this wasn't a sudden relapse of feelings.

"I'm gonna visit Stephen." She replied easily, running her hand through her hair and standing. She spoke casually, as though it wasn't strange at all to climb through his window, step on his legs, and then amble out quite casually.

"Stephen? The new kid?" He asked, rubbing his eyes sleepily. He glared. "Then whaddaya doin' in my room?"

"Yours just happens to be the one with the fire escape." She replied. 

"Why can't you take stairs like a normal person?" He muttered, burying his face in the pillow. She half smiled, then turned and strolled out of the room, closing the door firmly behind her.

Stephen had never told her his dorm room number, as she had never revealed the same thing to him. But she knew exactly where to go. She walked a few doors down, then turned to her right and knocked firmly on the one she knew he was in.

It opened almost immediately. He was standing there, fully dressed in a blue tee shirt and jeans that had a tear in the knee. His hair was flopping before his face, but his eyes were deadly serious, his lips holding no trace of a grin whatsoever. Misprint knew she was in deep trouble, and questioned her instincts about going to him in the first place, but on second thought, it was better than lying like a corpse under the covers, pretending to sleep.

"Mis." He acknowledged, nodding his head.

"Stephen."

"You went, didn't you?"

"Brilliant, Holmes." She rolled her eyes. Then she stole a furtive glance up and down the hallway. It wouldn't do for her to be caught. She returned her already cynical gaze to him. "Can't I come in?"

"By all means." He said icily, stepping back slightly. He was so Joe Average, it was almost peculiar. His room wasn't neat, wasn't tidy, wasn't particular at all in the slightest. _The slayers could take a lesson from this guy, _she thought sceptically. He closed the door firmly behind him and motioned to the chair at the desk, where there was a lap top and a few papers. She sat down and stared at her thumbs, flicking them at each other restlessly. He sat down at the edge of his bed and leaned over his knees.

"I thought I told you not to."

"You _know_ you told me not to." She countered, already feeling as though this was some kind of oral war. She wanted to win. 

"Then why'd you do it?"

"Because…I don't know. I didn't think he could get at me if I was with Shade…or maybe Racetrack…"

"But you weren't, and he did, and now you're sliced and diced as a result." He said, clenching his jaw in anger. She glanced up at him, but returned her burning gaze to her nails as she caught his. 

Misprint sighed and leaned back on the chair gently, so as not to upset her scars. It was uncanny, this strange wavelength they shared. Or at least, the wavelength he had. She felt nothing from him. Could he read her thoughts, or her feelings? Could she read his? 

"Misprint, this ain't the first time it's happened." He said, standing up and pacing. She rolled her eyes, despite her confusion and fearful twinges.

"What are you, an _expert _or something?" She teased. He didn't stop pacing, but a small smirk twisted his thin lips. 

"Ten years ago, I made a decision to kill Spot myself." He informed her. "I spent a hell of a lot of time researching and finding out all I could. I _guess_ you could call me an expert." Before she could come up with a satisfactory reply, he was already talking again. "Five of 'em. Two escaped. The rest are dead."

"And I'm the sixth?" She asked in an emotionless monotone.

"That's right."

"Great. Here's hoping they'll let me into heaven. I know hell's afraid I'll take over." 

"Misprint, I ain't joking here!" He said in exasperation. She looked up, offended.

"I know that."

"Then please take it seriously! You're _life_ is on the line."

"It won't matter much if I bite it." She replied apathetically. She looked up quickly. "No pun intended. But seriously. Who cares?"

"Shade." He said quickly. "And Chaos, Bumlets, Dutchy, Gemini, Mush, Mondie, Blink, Racetrack…"

"They'll get over me." She mumbled, embarrassed. She declined to ask how he knew so much about her. She had a feeling he could tell her what brand of socks she wore yesterday. She, on the other hand, could hardly read the logo on the front of his shirt. _So much for a wave length_, she thought bitterly. 

"If you think that, you don't deserve them." He said frankly, sitting down again. Misprint sighed and finally relented. Her cynical side brought her nothing but trouble.

"What do I gotta do?" She asked timidly.

+ 

Jack was impeccably dressed for a regular teenager so early in the morning. He caught the look on Shade's face as he strolled into the room. The raised-eyebrow-what-have-we-here look that he knew so well.

"What?" He asked, going on the defensive.

"I bet you were all dressed and ready when I called you, right?" She asked knowingly.

"Yes." He replied stoutly. She rolled her eyes.

"Great. I'm working with _proffesionals_."

"Where exactly did you say Misprint was?" he asked, as she tried to slide the stake into her jeans pocket without him noticing. Her valiant effort didn't work. His eyes caught on the weapon, and she flushed slightly.

"I dunno." She replied quickly. "Racetracks, more than likely. _Or _she went to visit Mondie. I just don't want her wandering around on her own."

"Why not?" Asked Jack curiously. Shade was definitely avoiding his eyes.

"No reason. She's my best friend. I don't want her getting into any trouble."

"You're equipped for slaying, Shade." He reminded her. She flipped her braid over her shoulder defiantly and tried to avoid the truth in the softest way possible. It wouldn't do for him to find out that she was actually leaving with slaying in mind, instead of just as a precaution. He'd want to go along to protect her. And the last thing she needed was protection. 

"Just in case." She said stubbornly. "You can never be too careful, huh Jack?"

"You're not a slayer." He said, putting his hands on his hips.

"Bite me." She shot. She patted the stake through her jeans, then strode towards the door, oblivious of the stares she was getting from the trio that she had invited in only a few minutes ago. Jack caught her hand on the way out, and their eyes met briefly. He looked as though he wanted to say something, but couldn't, not with the visitors sitting slack-jawed in a row. He let her hand go, as though he had brushed against it accidentally. She scowled, then continued on her way. Silence flooded the room, and the click of the door closing was very audible indeed. Gemini swallowed.

"Slaying?" Blink finally asked.

"Stakes?" Mush added. 

"It's a long story." Jack said, still staring at the door. Suddenly, he rounded on the lot of them, and glowered. "And it's important that you keep your mouths shut about it. Hear?"

"We hear." Blink said quickly. "You can trust us with your _deepest_ secrets, Jack." Gemini snorted, and he had to elbow her in the ribs to get her to stop giggling. Jack, however, found it no laughing matter.

"I'm serious, guys. And…girl." He said quickly, as Gemini glowered at him. "You ain't gonna believe me when I tell you this, and I'm not so sure you can keep it confidential."

"Trust us." Mush said solidly. "If it's that important, we won't tell a soul."

"Yeah." Blink said, straight faced. "I mean, I know things about Mush that would make many people scream in horror. And I ain't never told no one."

+ 

Misprint sighed as she listened to Stephen's instructions, chin propped up on her knees, arms wrapped around her legs. The wounds stung underneath her clothing, but she tried to force herself to get used to it. The way Stephen spoke about some of the other girls that had fallen to Spot, she felt like a spoiled baby to still be alive.

"So what." She finally interrupted him, after hearing the fourth story about someone who had killed herself over the whole affair. "Are you saying that I'm the only one who made it past the first night?"

"Not the only one." He said, a small smile coming to his lips. "But one of the few."

"Oh _good._" Misprint said with fake joviality. "This way, he can keep coming back for more."

"Not unless you…"

"Do what you've told me, I know." Misprint said. She felt a strange revulsion in her stomach to listen to him speak of solitude and defences. She hated the cuts and burns on her skin, but there was a strange impulse deep in her body somewhere that wanted to disobey him, just to see what would happen. To see what Spot would say if he ever saw her again. Stephen regarded her warily.

"Why didn't…" Misprint paused, then glanced up at him. "Why didn't he kill me like the others?"

Stephen watched her, then leaned back in his chair. "He came pretty close, didn't he?"

Misprint turned her face downwards and pressed her mouth against her knees. Stephen waited for a moment, before adding in his gentlest voice; "That's a pretty nasty row of burns you have there."

Misprint whipped her head up, eyes flashing with confusion. Stephen caught her perplexity, and smiled, before standing and taking the hem of his shirt in his hands. He slowly pulled it up over his head, revealing a wiry, small body underneath, boyish and frail. He let his shirt drop to the floor and stood before her, bared from the waist up. Misprint narrowed her eyes, unsure of what he was trying to do, until her gaze caught on his stomach. Outlined in the bright red of aggravated flesh was every scar and burn that Spot had given her, identical, and angry looking, shadows of what decorated her body. 

+ 

Mondie was ready to bash the nurses head in when she made that examination on her head for the fifth time in twelve minutes.

"_Please_, ma'am." Mondie begged. "I feel fine. Really." She lied valiantly. She did _not _feel fine. The two bruises on her head were pounding at her brain worse than ever. At least the throbbing in her temple had gone down some. The nurse looked sceptical, and even worse, a little suspicious. 

She heard a knock at the door and sat up immediately, which brought forth a strong radiance of disapproval from the nurse, who had to force her back down onto her pillow again. "Come in." She called crossly.

Mondie was surprised when Shade peeked in. She was hoping for Mush. But the nurse squashed down all her hopes immediately by rearing to her full height and puffing up like an angry rhinoceros.

"No guests allowed." She declared.

"I was just wondering if…" Shade began in a normal voice.

"_No guests allowed_." The nurse repeated. Shade rolled her eyes.

"If Faith McAlester had visited here any time today. But I guess it's pointless to ask."

"No guests allowed." The nurse said again. She sounded like a scratched record. Mondie rolled her eyes.

"I ain't seen her. Why?" She replied. Shade shrugged, and Mondie caught the look in her eyes. She was hiding something. But she was playing normal, so there was no reason for Mondie to get on her case about it. Especially when the nurse was breathing down both their necks simultaneously, which physically must be very difficult indeed.

"Just…I have a couple of things she owns…I gotta return 'um." Shade lied. Mondie stifled a giggle. _Shade, you two share a dorm_. She thought. But no reason to arouse the nurses suspicions. So she smiled.

"Sorry I can't help you." Mondie said. _And you better tell me what's going on later, or I'll set Mush on you._

The thought made her laugh so hard, the nurse had to give her an aspirin to calm her down.

+ 

"I'm gonna _kill _that goil." Shade promised herself, as she knocked on Racetrack's door. It was opened a moment later by the tired Italian, who looked as though she had caught him in the act of getting ready for the day. His hair was partially combed back, and his shirt half unbuttoned. He blinked sleepily, then half smiled.

"Hey Shade. What's new?"

"Is Misprint in there with you?" Shade asked, cutting right to the chase. His face broke into wrinkles of perplexity. Such a tone of voice was not good with the boy in the early morning.

"Uh…no." He answered, passing a hand through his hair. "But she was a few minutes ago…"

"Then where'd she go?"

"I can't remember." He drawled, opening the door a little farther so she could come in. But she stood stalwart in the hallway, eyes sparking with urgency.

"Anthony, this is serious." She said, using his real name. He winced. He preferred Racetrack. What was the problem, anyways?

"She went to…to…ah…" He rubbed his eyes sleepily. "Stephen's. That was 'is name."

"Which dorm room is he in?" She asked quickly.

"Well how should I know, Shade?" he replied. "I hardly know the guys face."

"Well how am I supposed to get there?" She demanded. He looked at her sceptically. She really should try to be a bit calmer at that time of day. He knew some people who could be absolutely homicidal morning people, and hoped she wasn't one of them.

"I don't know." He finally said slowly. "You could go ask Kloppman."

+ 

"Misprint!"

Misprint stifled a scream and jumped a mile, as though someone had pressed a gun to her back. She whirled around to see Shade standing there, looking just as shocked as she was.

"Shade!" She breathed, pressing a hand to her heart. She could feel it pulsing against the inside of her ribcage. "You scared me."

"Comon, Mis." Shade ordered, latching onto the girls wrist and practically dragging her down the boys dorm. She had been lucky. Walking out from Racetrack's room, she had seen Misprint just on her way down the stairs. Back from Stephens. Shade was as curious as the next girl, but managed to hold her silence. She completely understood the fact that Misprint probably didn't want to talk about it. 

It didn't stop her from being just a little angry. 

"Shade, yer hurting me." Misprint whispered, so not to wake anyone whose suspicions would be aroused already because of her near scream.

"Yeah, right. I let go of you, and you run away again. You _disappear_ on me." Shade informed her. "There ain't no way. What am I going to have to do to get you to stay still? Tie you to your mattress?"

"I'm a big goil, Shade." Misprint demurred sarcastically, trying to snatch her wrist back. "I tie my own shoes and everything." Shade's grip was strong. She furrowed her brows in puzzlement. 

"Then why can't you stay outta trouble?" She gave the girl a yank, and Misprint flew forwards unexpectedly.

"Since when did you hulk out?" She snapped.

"I like to think I'm prettier than he is." Shade replied sarcastically.

"Seriously. You have steroids for breakfast?"

"No! I just…it's a long story. I gotta get you back to the dorm. Mush, Gem, Blink, an Jack is there. He's probably having a hard time explaining it to them…"

"You're telling them?" Misprint exclaimed, so loud that Shade clapped a hand over her mouth, almost knocking the girl back onto the steps. "Why? I thought we were supposed to keep it a secret!"

"Well, in this case, it's impossible." Shade said lightly. "This subject is closed. No more talking, we gotta sneak past Kloppman."

"He doesn't care…" Misprint reminded her, but Shade sent her a glare that clearly meant "Shut up or die." Misprint chose the "shut up" option, and resignedly stitched her lips together.

They were lucky Kloppman had been swamped with so much office work lately. He was buried in mountains of papers as they crept past his office, then out into the cold autumn morning, which was quickly turning into the afternoon.

"What about Mondie?" Misprint asked suddenly. "Isn't she with Mush?"

"She's in the infirmary."

"The infirmary? Holy shit, how much went on when I was away?" 

"A lot. Comon. I'll explain everything once we get back."

"Fine." Misprint grumbled. Shade glanced at her friends grumpy face, then released her wrist. Purple bruises were beginning to form hesitantly on the pale skin. Neither girl said a word. 

They scaled the stairs to their room and Shade wrenched the door open. It opened on a very stressful scene indeed. Blink was leaning forwards, face to face with Jack, as though the two were speaking two different languages and were having trouble understand each other. Gemini was leaning against the wall, her arms wrapped around her legs, her stance immediately showing her insecurity, while Mush was staring determinedly at the floor. 

"Okay, run this past me again." Blink was saying. Jack sighed in aggravation. Then, in a slow, laboured tone, he said:

"Vampires. Slayers. Are you with me?"

"Unbelievably, yes." Blink said sarcastically. 

"Good. Slayers found by Slayers Council. Got it?"

"Got it."

"Good. Slayers kill vampires."

"I understand."

"Then why don't you believe me?" he asked, the same way a kindergarten teacher would, in a lolling, false voice.

"I guess I do…" he said softly, staring at the carpet. What was he supposed to say next? 

Gemini shuffled forwards and knocked him playfully on the shoulder, but it did nothing to raise their spirits, which were soaked with shock. Shade cleared her throat. All four pairs of eyes flew to her and Misprint. She avoided Jack's which were especially clear, a burning flame behind the irises.

"Sorry to break up this shin dig." She said, pulling the stake out of her jeans and placing it on the table. "We all clear on this vampire issue?"

Blink was about to make a negative comment, but Gemini quickly slapped a hand over his mouth.

"Clear." She confirmed. Misprint was standing quietly in the doorway, eyes on the carpet. She began to wish she had at least gotten changed into another outfit. The scars on her arms were still visible. Mush caught sight of them, and his eyes grew curious. Before he could make an inquiry, Shade continued.

"Then I'd like to patch whatever happened last night together." She confessed. Gemini blinked in confusion.

"I thought we already knew." She said. "Jack spelled it out for us. Vampires. Slayers. Slayers appointed by…"

"That's great, Gem, but I already know the history." Shade said impatiently, flipping her hair behind her shoulders. She glanced behind her. "Mis. You gonna come in, or stand there like a Barbie Doll? Move, woman!" 

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Misprint said, an attempt to be the cynical girl she once was. But she stumbled slightly as she sat down heavily on her bed, grabbing a sweater and pulling it on, to avoid the stares of her friends. Shade shut the door behind them. 

"Just a note." She said, sitting next to Jack. He placed his fingers on top of hers, but she curled them underneath her hand, pulling them away. "The minute we hear Ms. Mayen knock, the male population makes a run for the bathroom. Understood?"

"Loud and clear." Blink replied, doing a mock salute. Mush nodded seriously, along with Gemini. Shade sighed, then turned to Misprint, who, as though sensing danger, backed up slightly. 

"Mis, I know you don't wanna tell anybody…"

"Don't want to?" She asked in a high voice. "More along the lines of I _can't,_ Shade." She emphasised her words desperately, knowing she was already fighting a losing battle.

"Mis, come on." She said. "I saw the initials. I know."

"I know you know!" She snapped. "I just don't want to tell anyone right now that I…I don't want to."

"Misprint, we need to figure out what happened." Shade said desperately. "And if you don't tell them, I will." A small silence stretched from student to student. Misprint recoiled at the new, hard edge Shade seemed to have. Then she took a deep breath.

"Fine. Fine. I'll tell them."

"Good." Shade nodded curtly, then allowed her eyes to beg for forgiveness. She didn't mean to hurt her like this, but she needed a summary of whatever happened and fast. Jack glanced uneasily at her. She was already acting as though she was a slayer, even though he would never allow that to happen.

But it looked as though it was already befalling without his consent.

"A'right." She conducted her words to Misprint. "We were in the haunted house, and we got separated. I was with Jack downstairs, when we saw this girl that had been murdered. Turns out; our house was loaded with vampires."

"Mondie, Gem, Blink, an' Mush was upstairs." Jack said, taking on her sentence as fluid as water. It wasn't an interruption, more of an addition. "You guys got separated as well?"

"Momentarily." Gemini said, resisting the urge to share a knowing smirk with Blink. Now did not seem like the time for flirtation. 

"Then…" Mush slowly took up his side of the story. "We were just looking at the decorations, when ten or eleven figures appeared. They had us cornered. One of them had a baseball bat, and he…he hit Mondie in the temple and knocked her out. She hit the door. Then he threw the bat down on the ground and advanced on me. I grabbed the bat and tried to get away…"

"Then Jack an' I found 'em." Shade said quickly. She could see it was painful for Mush to be saying all this. He smiled gratefully at her. "I staked 'um, and we took Mondie to the hospital wing."

There was a silence. It certainly hadn't taken long to outline the night, even though it had seemed to last forever at the time, a hellish nightmare that didn't stop. Misprint tucked her sharp knees under her chin and hugged her scarred legs to her chest, knowing that soon every pair of eyes in the room would be on her, listening to her spill the story.

How could Shade make her do this?

Sure enough, Jack turned to Misprint. His hazel eyes were glinting with curiosity. Following his lead, the four other teens looked over at her. She sighed and shut her eyes tightly. Her theory hadn't worked when Shade had seen the cuts. But at least it kept her hidden from their expressions, what they were thinking.

"I was dancing." She began shakily. "I saw Shade up with Racetrack. I saw Gemini an' Blink go into the house, same with Mondie." She tried desperately to stall for time. "There was no one else I really knew. I guess…I dunno." She opened her eyes quickly, to see them all focused on her. It was too much for her to handle. She quickly burrowed into her own dark haven again and decided to let the bomb drop. "Then, Race started playin' Hot One. An' then…Spot showed up." She opened her eyes.

"What?" Jack exclaimed, leaning forwards, almost jumping to his feet. Misprint stumbled backwards, as though she had been slapped. Shade was looking morosely at the floor, while Gemini and Blink shared an edgy look. Jack had explained what Spot had done to both Misprint and Shade, and who he was. Misprint looked over at Jack fearfully. Shade put two hands on Jack's shoulders to steady him.

"You heard me." Misprint replied shakily. But Jack's mind was already racing ahead, calculating the scars on her arms, her silence, her repression. He scowled heavily, a strand or two of his hair falling before his forehead. Misprint hugged her legs tighter and began to pray.

"You didn't." He growled. She shut her eyes tightly. Jack tried to stand up, but Shade pushed him back down again. 

"For crying out loud, Jack, hold your applause till the _end._" She snapped. She knew it was hard for Misprint to be saying this anyways, and she didn't want her friend being interrupted by Jack, who would only make things worse. But Misprint seemed to have curled in upon herself, not answering anyone's questions. Shade sighed.

"A'right." She ordered. "This session is officially closed until tomorrow. Understood?"

+ 

Misprint could have kissed Shade a thousand times over every hour that day for mercifully ending the conversation. Jack, at that time, had already figured out the entire story anyways, and so that much damage was caused. Misprint knew he was ready to maul her, and would have gladly let him do so. She hated the feeling of the cuts against her skin.

She was good and ready to die.

Despite Stephen's warnings.

She sighed and poked at the stiffness of her gelled hair. Tomorrow he'd definitely want a full explanation, and directions to Spot's lair, both of which Misprint wasn't prepared or able to give. Suspension was supposed to be the worst of bad punishments, but really it only gave the kids an excuse to flop around in their dorms and tease their friends about still having to attend classes.

The caretakers weren't that bright.

Shade hadn't tried to let her hopes rise as Jack led her out of the room. Mush, Blink, and Gemini had left long ago, probably off to discuss and figure out what the hell they had just head. Jack knew, first hand, what it was like to find out there were vampires and demons and things you thought never existed.

He knew the hard way. 

"Shade." He said, shoving his hands boyishly into the pockets of his jeans. She leaned against the wall.

"What?" She asked warily, hoping she wasn't going to be the outlet of his anger over Misprint and Spot.

"I gotta job for you."

"You really don't know me at all, do you Kelly?" Jack raised an eyebrow. Shade rolled her eyes. "I. Don't. Do. Errands."

"This is different. It's…" He sighed in resignation. "It's slayer work." He gave her a look with those steady hazel eyes. She shrugged. He glanced over at the door.

"I want you ta talk to Misprint. Find out where Spot's lair is. He's been around too long."

Shade couldn't have agreed more. Not only did he do this to Misprint, he had put her through the nuke withdrawal. She didn't like thinking about it. One, obviously being the pain, but two, the fact that it was that time Jack had taken it upon himself to nurse her to health, and hold her.

Almost every time.

"I'll try." She said finally. 

Jack couldn't possibly explain why he was burning with rage. Spot deserved to be bathed in holy water, then set on fire, or any other kind of torture method Shade could come up with. He had never told anyone of how he got so set against Spot, or why he had made this vow to get him good and staked before he died. And he wasn't about to start now, that was for sure.

"Then…something else…" He said, pushing Spot, for now, to the back of his mind. His eyes were raised to her face, and dwelt fondly on the curves of her lips. 

"What's this all about?" She asked gingerly.

"Well…it's about last night…" He replied. Shade sighed and felt her stomach sink. This was it. He was here to tell her it hadn't meant anything. _Great_, she thought. _Find someone I'm happy with, and they're only in it for a midnight fling._

"Right." She said finally, running a hand through her hair. "Well then. Sorry." She turned and put her hand on the doorknob.

Jack dropped the smirk and wanted to reach out and grab her. Sorry? She didn't mean anything by it? His hand shot out before he could stop himself and latched onto her shoulder.

"Sorry?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry I even…I even tried." She snapped, causing him to grimace slightly. "I should have figured that you thought differently."

That he thought it felt right? He tightened his grip. 

"So…for you it was…"

"Different. Yeah." She sighed. 

"Fine. Sorry I brought it up." He let her go. She nodded, flipped her hair over her shoulder, then went back into the dorm, to the shell shocked Misprint, leaving him alone in the hallway. 

+ 

Mondie cracked an eye open, and stared at the hospital wing, now shaded blue from the darkness. She took a hesitant breath, then sat up and swung her legs to the floor. The nurse had long gone. What time was it? Two? Three? She had no way of being sure.

All she knew was that, injury or no injury, she'd go insane if she was forced to spend one more night under the care of the nurse.

__

Her hands smell like cabbages, Mondie thought to herself, as she flipped her hair over her shoulder. The two strange and sudden bumps on her head were throbbing worse than ever, but she ignored them as she picked up her hair band, the cat ears still in place, and let it dangle from her fingers. She bid the infirmary a bitter goodbye, before easing the door open and slipping into the dark hall.

The night time transformed it into a trap filled swamp of ghosts and demons. She stole out the door and across the night, drizzle soaking through her hair and making her skin damp. She shuddered. She'd get in trouble for breaking out, she was sure. But it wasn't like she was in mortal danger or anything. It was just a bump.

She sighed with relief as she made it to the main hall unspotted. But that didn't mean she was home free. Luckily, the sharp eared Mrs. Mayen would be just a little too sleepy to notice her sudden arrival. Practically holding her breath, she edged up the stairs and to her dorm which she shared with Gemini.

She didn't want to wake her friend. She noticed, with a little anxiety, her friend was paler than usual. Her hair hung limply around her face, and moved slightly as she breathed in and out. Mondie shrugged, then brushed her own hair behind her ears.

It fell forwards onto her face again.

She froze, her fingers suspended by the side of her face. She hardly dared breath. She hastily tried to push her hair behind her ears again, but it fell back. 

__

She had no ears.

"What the hell?" She hissed, pressing her hand to the side of her head. Nothing. She checked both sides, and even down to her neck. This was ridiculous! She must be dreaming. The two bumps hurt…

She held her breath, then slowly moved her fingers upwards. They slid over her brown hair, and along her scalp, until they bumped into two firm pieces of furry _somethings…_

She ran her fingers along the edge of the triangle shaped appendages, and fought down the urge to laugh. What a ridiculous dream. She walked towards the mirror, and saw, to her confusion, she had two small cat ears peeping out from the curtain of her hair.

She poked at one, and found she could feel her finger. She pulled at them, but they were stuck fast.

She had grown cat ears.

She opened her mouth to scream, but she was absolutely shocked. She _had_ to be dreaming. There was no way she could have possibly grown cat ears, no matter how hard she had hit her head. 

She stumbled backwards onto her bed, her fingers still prodding at the new extensions. How could she get rid of these? How could she cover them up? How could she _not have regular ears?_

She blacked out and fell backwards, her head landing mercifully on soft bedspread instead of floor. 

+

Unfortunately, it is just I today. Mis the print. Just apologizing for such a long wait. I read over some of the Spot and Misprint scenes, and found myself lying on the floor coughing up blood. They were pretty bad. So I've rewritten them. Now they are eloquently bad. Made a small change to one scene, and then I had to correct references in many other scenes, and now…it's super different. Pity my toasted ribs, fans of the original work!

Lotsa updates for you guys today. For being such good waiters.

As in…people who wait. As opposed to obnoxious men and women who mess up your order.

-Misprint


	12. twelve

****

Twelve

Gemini woke up to the not-so-melodic ring of her alarm clock. She groaned and whacked the top of it, immediately silencing the damn thing. Then she sat up and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. To her delight, Mondie was conked out on the bed, her hair bunched around the top of her head where the covers were pressing against it. 

She wanted to wake her friend up immediately and make her spill the details of what was going on, and fill her in on a couple revelations herself. But, on second thought, she pulled on her uniform, watching her sleep peacefully. She probably hadn't gotten much rest.

Better to let her sleep. 

+

"Heya. Mush." Mush turned his head and saw Gemini standing there, backpack slung casually over one shoulder, grinning in the "I know something you don't know" way that infuriated most beyond belief. Mush gave her a small smile.

"Hi Gem."

"Guess what?"

"Mondie's out of the hospital."

The sudden way his face lit up was very charming indeed. A huge smile graced his features. It was as though she had told him his dead parents had come back to life.

"She is?" he repeated. She rolled her eyes.

"No Mush. I'm lying. Of _course_ she is!" They both laughed shortly, but Mush sobered when he remembered she didn't know what Jack and Shade had told them. He brushed a stray curl off his forehead.

"You gonna tell her about…you know…" He trailed off. She bit her lip.

"Maybe later. I don't want to shock the kid. She went through an almostconcussion." She said, running the two words together to form a new one. "She'll find out soon enough anyhow."

+ 

Misprint was glad the slayers had to fit in. Otherwise they would, without a doubt, skip class to come and question her about what happened. At her request, Shade had told Jack the story instead of her. She didn't want to relive it again. And she had come awfully close the last time they had all gotten together.

She had to start thinking in school terms again, even though it would be hard. She still had to "serve time" in detention, and they would be making up for school work. She knew herself and Shade would have trouble with that like all get out. 

Shade was lying on her bed, staring up at the ceiling in anger. She was an obsessive romantic, and throwing Jack into the mix didn't help.

There came a knock at the girl's dorm. Misprint and Shade glanced at one another. Who would be there? School was still in session. Shade's stomach tensed, hoping it wasn't Jack.

"Girls?" Came a small voice. Misprint smiled, for the first time in a while.

"It's Mondie!" She exclaimed, getting up to open the door. She realized, with slight foreboding, the blue checkered boxers and black tank top she wore revealed, all to easily, the scars up and down her limbs. But she didn't want to have to pull on a pair of pants and sweat shirt en route to the door. So she would have to let it be.

She pulled it open to reveal Mondie, wearing a pair of jeans, a sweatshirt, and a huge black toque, that looked as though it might add five pounds to her head. She gave a small smile, glanced up and down the hallway, and then pushed inside.

"Mondie! You're back from the hospital!" Shade smiled absently. "Feeling better?"

"Feeling great! Sorta." She said weakly. Misprint raised an eyebrow. "I…I kinda got a problem."

"Oh?" Shade asked, sitting and patting a space beside her. Mondie sat. Misprint followed suit on her own bed and, in a fit of self-consciousness, pulled the covers over her scarred legs.

"Yeah. I don't know what happened…what's goin' on…" She said, stalling for time. "But I woke up in the infirmary and snuck out…I had to get outta there…" Both girls nodded sympathetically.

"So what's the problem. Is your head okay?"

"Oh, it's fine!" She said quickly. "It's good…kinda…yeah…"

"Mondie, what's the matter?" Misprint prodded. She swallowed, and then sighed.

"It's…at the infirmary, there were two bumps on my head…no idea where they came from. And they hurt. A _lot_." She shivered. "And they were growing slightly too. Now I got a big problem." She said in a melancholy tone. 

"Mondie you can tell us." Shade promised. Mondie braced herself, squeezed her eyes tight, and pulled off the hat. 

A stunned silence met her ears. One could have heard a marshmallow drop.

"Holy…" Shade began, but she couldn't finish the sentence. 

"Are those _real_?" Misprint breathed, forgetting her scars and walking cross the room to examine them. Mondie nodded, eyes still shut tightly.

"They're still kinda tender, but yeah. They're real."

"How?" Shade stammered. "I mean…Why? How?"

"Does it look like I could tell you?" Mondie replied. "I don't know how I got them, or _why. _I don't see a reason. There _is_ no reason!"

"Calm down, calm down." Shade said, putting her hands on the girls shoulders. "This is…there's gotta be a reason. There's always a reason."

"It just isn't clear to us at the moment." Misprint supplied. Mondie moaned and buried her face in her hands. Misprint glanced edgily over at Shade.

"You think Jack might know something about this?"

"I dunno." Shade said slowly. She glanced over at the phone, sitting, unused, on the bedside table. "You could call 'im."

"_Me?_" Misprint asked incredulously. "I ain't gonna call 'im."

"Well I ain't gonna!" Shade replied stubbornly.

"You don't understand. In his books, I'm wanted alive, _or_ dead."

"In his books, I'm a stupid li'l girl that…"

"Guys, guys!" Mondie said, holding up her hands. "Jack wouldn't be able to help. I tried pulling at them, and they're…well, they're _part_ of me. The only way to get them off is probably with a chainsaw. And that is _not_ happening any time soon."

"You could always go back to the infirmary…" Misprint suggested. Mondie wrinkled her nose.

"I'd rather _keep_ them than have those nurses think I'm a freak." She declared. There was a long silence. Misprint smirked slightly, producing an injured look from the wronged Mondie.

"You know…they are kinda cute…" She said slowly. Mondie grabbed the toque and shoved it firmly down over her head.

+ 

Chaos had a radar for trouble. When Jack, Shade, and Misprint didn't show up for any of their classes, it didn't take a genius to figure out that something was up. She grabbed Bumlets and Dutchy during study hall.

"You seen Shade or Mis all day?" She questioned them. They both had to admit they hadn't. It had come to Dutchy's attention, but only briefly. There had been some vampires out and about after the dance, and he was extremely tired. 

"Jack ain't here as well." Bumlets pointed out.

"I think we should pay them a little _visit_ after school." Chaos said, her eyes glinting with steeliness. She hated talking with Jack, but she hated it even more when he kept secrets from her.

"Agreed." Bumlets confirmed.

+ 

"Jack, you pitiful excuse for a man." Chaos greeted, as she burst through the door of Jack's dorm. Jack glanced up from his book.

"Hey Chaos." He greeted. He really was in no mood to deal with the temperamental fourteen year olds mood swings, and wished she could have just left him alone till the end of the day at _least. _He was still boiling over Spot's attack on Misprint. It had been right under his nose, and he never even noticed. Or sensed it. 

"What's going on?" She demanded, stopping in front of him. Jack glanced behind the irate girl, and saw Dutchy and Bumlets flanking her. 

"I thought you'd come by for answers sooner or later." He said resignedly, marking his book and closing it. Chaos nodded righteously. 

"It's a long story." He said slowly. "You might wanna take a seat."

+

"Mondie!" Mush called, rapping expectantly on the door. Mondie looked up, panicked, as he peeked in. She pulled the toque down slightly, as though he could see through it with x-ray vision. 

"Oh!" She said, trying a smile. "Hey…hey there Mush." She laughed nervously.

"Gemini told you were back from the hospital." He exclaimed, closing the door behind him, then nervously standing by the wall.

"Well, she told you right." Mondie replied, wondering if the points of her ears were outlined in the wool of the toque. She hoped not. She didn't want Mush to find out about them until she was ready.

"I missed you a lot." He told her emphatically. She rolled her eyes, but in spite of the sentence corniness, she was flattered.

"It was only two days Mush." She said, embarrassed, but slightly proud all the same. He nodded, and then hesitantly went to sit down beside her.

"Is your head okay?" He asked in concern. He lifted his fingers and touched her temple gently. She jerked her head away, thinking his fingers might trail down the side of her face, and right through the space where her human ears should have been. He looked slightly hurt, so she wrapped an arm around his shoulders to reassure him.

"Fine." She lied. Smiling. It wasn't as faked as it was before. He smiled back nervously. Their faces were close together, but he didn't want to be the one to move first, afraid of making a mistake and being laughed at. Mondie ran her fingers through his curls, and smiled as they fell back easily into place. He was so adorable. Her affection for him was more than she could explain.

Just so long as he didn't find out about the ears.

"I missed you too, Mushy." She grinned. He pouted slightly, at the use of the nick name. She laughed, leaned in, and planted a kiss on his mouth.

He hesitated, surprised, and then moved his lips back, slightly brushing hers. His hands easily found their way to her waist, and he circled her in a gentle hug. She smiled through the kiss, loving every moment. She couldn't believe how adorable and hesitant he was about everything. It melted her heart.

She played with the curls at the top of his neck, gently twining them through her fingers. The skin of her hand brushed against the back of his neck, and he pulled her slightly closer. She tilted her head slightly to the left and worked her fingers upwards into his hair, lightly grazing his scalp.

So there were things that could make her forget about her new ears. 

+ 

Misprint closed her eyes sleepily. It was going to be a long, hard school year. But whatever was coming would come.


	13. thirteen

****

Thirteen  
Winter Solstice

Chaos was usually in control. If she didn't have information, she yelled at someone till she did. If she didn't like the way things were going, she yelled at someone till she did. And if she had no idea what was going on, she yelled at someone till she did. Life is what you make of it, and she simply chose to make hers straight forward and simple.

Of course, Jack stepped in and made that complicated for her, by not listening when she yelled. This was new for Chaos, and it made them enemies from first sight. She could have counted up to the thousands of the numbers of times she had wanted to drive a stake through his chest, vampire or no. It would be a fitting death for a slayer, at least. When he neglected to tell her about the vampire war, forcing her to find out on her own means, that was one of those times. It was lucky his window had been closed at that point, otherwise the headmaster would be peeling him off the cement the next morning.

It didn't mean Chaos wasn't content through in the months leading up to the Winter Solstice. Bumlets seemed to be following her orders more and more, for which she was thankful, and the slaying wasn't incredibly hard. Her opinion was that they should move somewhere where some _real_ vampires were just waiting to be staked, but Jack insisted on staying in New York. Chaos understood the whole vampire war but, with all due respect (or not so much), nothing was _happening_. The city was as dead as the vampires they killed. Maybe an apocalypse was on the horizon again. She had no clue. But sometimes you just had to take things as they came.

Like Mondie's cat ears. That had been the strangest thing Chaos had experienced yet. She had taken her share of demons dripping slime and malice, medieval vampires and monsters and freaks and so forth and so on. But a completely normal girl growing cat ears? The four of them had gotten to work, trying to find exactly what was going on with it, but no solutions had come up yet. It seemed harmless anyhow. 

Chaos had heard all about Spot and Misprint, but then again, what vampire slayer at the school hadn't? She was fuming mad at her for letting a lousy demon take control of her life like that. How was that a way to survive? Luckily, it seemed like it had stopped before it began. There was no more word of the demon appearing around her, and Shade was being her body guard 24/7. Unfortunately for the slayers, she couldn't manage to squeeze any information from her at all. Spot's lair was still unknown. Chaos had a feeling that was what was keeping Jack in New York. She understood the longing to fulfil a vow you had made. 

__

Just tell him where he is, Mis. She often thought in aggravation. _Then we can get the hell out of here. Kiss this rotten old town g'bye._

But no information came from Misprint.

"Heya! Chaos!" A voice called. Chaos turned to see Shade running down the hall towards her. Wonder of wonders, Shade and Misprint had actually tried to catch up on their school work. They were often found in their dorm writing out long essays or something to get their grades up. Chaos didn't blame them. Who would want to be stuck in a place like _this_?

Shade hated the essays. She hated the homework and the school work and the conventionality of it all. But it was the only way to break out of the school, besides dropping out. And Shade wasn't quite ready to leave right away. There was always the risk of getting sent to another orphanage. She'd lose Misprint. And Jack.

She and Jack had edged around each other for the past months. She wanted to talk to him, and vice versa, but neither could pluck up the courage to do so. And they were both apathetic.

"Why should I care?" Shade had snapped when Misprint had questioned her about the two of them not talking. "If he ain't gonna talk to me, then I ain't gonna talk to him."

"That's a pretty strange relationship you got going there." Misprint said, raising her eyebrows. Shade neglected to remind her of her brief, but _extremely _strange and extremely painful relationship with Spot. She knew it would only make her curl up inside herself. Shade was never sure how to introduce the topic of Spot to her. She knew she had to, to find some way to get to his lair so they could kill the bastard and be done with it, but Misprint didn't want to answer. There was no way they'd be able to find out. 

"Whassa matter, Shade?" Chaos asked, as the girl finally caught up with her. Shade dropped her voice to a dramatic whisper.

"We going out tonight?" She asked. Chaos rolled her eyes.

"Yeah. To that new restaurant down the block."

"You know what I mean!" She snapped, play punching Chaos on the arm. Chaos didn't smile. 

"Yeah. You comin'?" 

"Sure." Shade grinned, happy to be included. She had learnt to start going to Chaos and Dutchy to ask if she could go slaying. Bumlets was as sweet as anything, but he had taken over Jack's position as "stickler for the rules". She knew he wouldn't hesitate to give her permission if she was allowed, but things were different.

"Where?"

"Probably down to the Brooklyn Heights. Heard there's been some mysterious murders down there. We'll wipe out a few vamps, at least." Chaos shrugged. She spoke completely normally, as if she had been dealing with this type of thing for years.

__

She has, Shade realised with a jolt of excitement. Chaos glanced over at Shade and watched her through the corner of her eye. She was never sure what to make of Shade. It was obvious the girl was different from any other orphan in the school, what with the amazing strength she possessed. Chaos had seen her slay. It was incredible. Yet, she wasn't a slayer. There was no way the Slayers Council would be able to let her get away with wandering around free. Chaos always figured she was half slayer. It would make sense. The strength of a slayer, but not so powerful it would get out of control.

She nodded her head, as though in approval. She liked bringing Shade along when they went slaying.

It pissed off Jack.

+ 

Mondie wasn't sure how she was able to keep her ears a secret to the school. Only the four slayers, Shade, Gemini, and Misprint knew of the strange new appendages. She had ditched the toque and used a blue hair band, pushing the ears flat against her head, and letting her hair fall over the space where her ears _should_ be. She had dropped the habit of flicking her hair over her shoulders, and in P.E., always wore an extremely tight base ball cap.

Mush had been the one to tell her about the vampires and the slayers. So whenever she moved her head to stop his fingers from finding her ears, she always felt guilty for keeping it a secret. Deep down, she knew he wouldn't hate her for having them, but wanted desperately to keep them private for a little while longer, but for how long, she could not say. 

She didn't have to wait for a lengthy amount of time.

Mush and Mondie were in the gym, finishing rolling up the volleyball nets, a chore that the both of them despised, but were told to do after class, since they were wasting time talking. Mondie didn't really mind. She and Mush were never really part of the "in" crowd, that consisted of the jocks and lip gloss addicts, preferring to make their own friends who were judged by kindness and not by designer labels. So their relationship wasn't wide spread across the school. They liked it better that way.

They finally finished pushing the net into the sports closet. Mondie took a sly glance behind her, and saw the gym empty. She quickly seized Mush around the neck and pulled him into the small room, kicking away a soccer ball that was in their way.

"Mondie!" He chastened, flushing. She tossed her head back and laughed.

"Comon Mush. No one's gonna miss us." She paused in thought. "Not for half an hour, anyways." 

He was about to open his mouth to protest, when he realised he didn't really _want_ to. He had Mondie in his arms. He gave her a grin, then leaned in to kiss her.

Mondie was only anticipating his lips, and not the fact he couldn't kiss her _with_ the cap.

He laughed shortly when his forehead hit the brim, then slowly pulled the hat off her head.

__

SHIT! Mondie was screaming on the inside. Before he had a chance to notice anything to awry, she leaned up and pressed her lips against his, hoping she'd be able to find a way out of this.

Mush paused, then kissed her back. She had been awful fast about that. What was it that girls were so afraid of? Hat hair or something? He couldn't remember. And he didn't particularily care at the moment.

__

It's been a long time since I've seen Mondie without something in her hair, he thought happily.

Alas, if it had been any one else, they would have clued in at this point. But our darling Mush is naïve indeed.

Mondie felt like screaming as he pulled away and smiled into her eyes. It was as sweet as all get out. But it also meant that if he shifted his eyes up one more centimeter, he'd have a clear view of the two, thin brown ears, that were poking up from her hair. She tried to pull him towards her for another kiss, but his eyes were fixed on the point above her head. She shut her eyes tightly, waiting for the bomb to fall. Her stomach sunk horribly.

"Mondie, you got ears!" He said incredulously. Mondie sighed.

"I know." She replied. He gaped. He was utterly dumbfounded. Mondie wriggled out of his arms, scooped her cap up from the ground and jammed it onto her head. Then, before he could say another word, she ran out of the closet, out of the gym, into the wintry daylight of December.

+ 

Shade sat on the bed across from Misprint, who was wearing a sweatshirt and long blue pajama pants. Shade, herself, was dressed in a black three-quarter length top and dark pants.

"Ain't you gonna be cold tonight?" Misprint enquired, staring at the ensemble.

"Slayin'll get me warmed up quick enough." She replied, pulling her hair into a high ponytail. Misprint nodded. She didn't talk to people any more. She only spoke for the sake of conversation. Her thoughts were somewhere else.

"Tell me how many you snuff tonight." She smiled. Shade grinned devilishly.

"Agreed." She promised. There was a small pause. "Anything new about Spot?" She asked softly. Misprint looked up with a jerk of her head.

"No." She said. "Nothing."

"You wanna get rid of him, don't you?" Shade persuaded. Misprint's eyes were guarded.

"Yes…" She said slowly.

"Then you just gotta tell us where the lair is, Mis." She said softly. Misprint's eyes narrowed, in spite of herself. She didn't know where the lair was, she had been blinded on the way. For all she knew, it could be in Jersey. But no one believed her.

__

I wouldn't tell 'em anyways, she realised sickly. The thought made her feel ill.

"Mis? You listening?" Shade asked, sounding concerned. Misprints eyes jolted up to her friends face.

"I already told you over and over." Misprint said in a monotone. "_I don't know._"

Something tapped at the window. Misprint jumped and twisted around, her heart fluttering faster, but there was nothing to be seen at all. Until a gray stone flew up from below and cracked against the glass. Misprint sighed in relief as Shade flipped the ponytail off her face.

"Gotta go." She grinned, as though she hadn't just failed to get the information out of her friend again. "Take care a' yourself, alright?"

"It's been a few months." Misprint reminded her, rolling her eyes. Shade nodded, but repeated the wish anyways. Then she climbed out the window, and was gone. 

Misprint waited until the foot steps receded from ear shot. She sighed shakily and stood. Maybe she could make it to Stephens before that time, and they could just talk. Even though he had made her angry their very first visit with each other, it didn't stop her from routinely coming to see him, but only after Shade had gone out to slay. She was still best friends with the girl, but knew she'd get jealous if she more often than not left her alone to go talk with Stephen.

But Stephen understood Spot.

And Stephen understood what she was going through.

She heard the crunch of a shoe against brick outside the window, and sat back down again. Never mind Stephen. She'd go over to his dorm later. She'd have a new scar for him by then. She pictured their conversation. It was the same every time.

"Heya Steph."

"Hi Mis."

"How's it rollin'?"

"Not bad. Got anything new for me?" 

It was the same every time. And every time, there was a new scar on her back, or her leg, or her thigh, or her shoulder. He'd always ask her where it was first, even though he knew. And every time he cleaned it and bandaged it. Something Shade would have done if Misprint could have told her. But she didn't want Spot slain.

A dark figure was outside the window. She watched him swing in and wipe the strands of hair from his face. His eyes glinted at her, and he smiled. She automatically tensed as he went to her and wrapped his arms around her waist, and then buried his face in her throat. His teeth scraped at the skin.

"I thought your little slayer friend would never leave." He whispered into the bite marks. 

+ 

Stephen knew who it was before he even opened the door. And it wasn't just a lucky guess. He could see her standing there, her hand around her shoulder, eyes strained, but empty at the same time. He opened the door.

"Heya Stephen." She said in a monotone.

"Hi Mis."

"How's it rollin'?"

"Not bad. Got anythin' new for me?"

"Yeah. Back of the shoulder." She murmured. He glanced up and down the hallways. There was still voices from the insides of the rooms. She brushed past him into his room. She was wearing black sweatshirt over a pair of blue pajama pants. The sweater had a dark stain on the back of the shoulder. Stephen tensed.

When she had first came to him with the scar on her thigh, he had hated her. Hated her for making the same mistakes that all the others had. Letting him do this to them all was the stupidest thing, but he could forgive it. He knew Spot like he knew the back of his hand, knew the way the vampires mind worked. He knew all this, but could hardly ever manage to guess his next move.

"I'll get the Bactine." He said resignedly, moving towards the bathroom. She nodded her thanks, then pulled off the sweat shirt, wincing as the fabric clung to the ragged skin around the cut. She didn't like their midnight sessions, but wanted the scars to heal as fast as possible. Having a bevy of the cuts being flaunted for the whole school to see was not her best interest, to say the least.

Stephen returned with the half empty bottle in his hand, bandages, and a cotton swabs. She sat down on the bed, her bones straining against her pale skin. He could trace the edges of her spine and shoulder blades with the cotton as he rubbed the Bactine soaked substance over the cut. She winced, feeling the burn underneath her skin, but reassured herself. It was burning the evil away.

Too bad evil kept coming back.

She was glad Stephen had finally given in to the fact that she couldn't stop Spot. She had tried. She had tried so hard it had nearly killed her, but he was as bad as the Nuke he had injected into Shade's veins. And Misprint didn't have a hot, blonde haired brown eyed beach boy helping her through it.

She had Stephen.

"Ow!" She complained finally, her eyes watering. He gave her a disapproving look.

"Might I remind you who's fault this is?" He said. She quieted immediately.

"I dunno Stephen." She sighed. "I know you want me to stop. An' I've tried." 

"I know." Stephen reassured her, pressing the bandage into place. "There we go. I know how you feel, Mis, I've been involved with him."

"How?" Misprint asked suddenly. Stephen paused. His fingers stopped on her shoulder, the ice of her skin making butterflies take flight in the pits of his stomach. 

"What?" He asked slowly.

"You keep tellin' me that. But what happened? What did he do to you?" She asked. She shuffled around so she was facing him. The brown and blue eyes met, taking in each others faces, trying to learn each others secrets. Stephen wasn't spilling. He crossed his arms.

"That's for me to know, and you not to." He said firmly.

"Stephen, you already know everything there is to know about me." She admitted. She tried out a fake pout. But in the seriousness of the moment, the humour was lost on the both of them. Stephen sighed and dropped his arms to the bed.

"It's a long story." He said slowly. Misprint shrugged.

"We got all night." She said truthfully. He nodded, but still seemed reluctant to tell. She reached forwards and hesitantly pushed a lock of hair away from his forehead. He glanced up at her, and saw the trust and curiosity in her zealous blue eyes. She had never looked more alive to his eyes.

He slowly began to talk, just as the alarm clocks letters showed 12:00 in the blood red font.

+ 

Gemini sat straight up in bed, her eyes shut tightly, as though she didn't want to wake up for the life of her. The dorm room was absolutely silent. Mondie was curled up in a ball under her covers, dried tears on her cheeks. The drapes were as still as curtains with five minutes to go till performance. The whole room reeked of tension. Suspense and tautness.

Gemini's curls were floating gently, as though in a warm breeze, even though the air was dead still. Her eyes flickered open, but they weren't eyes anymore. They were balls of white light. Light so radiant and effulgent, it was a wonder it didn't burn through the walls in front of her. Under the sheets, her fingertips were glowing with the same light, radiating through the thin fabric.

She snapped her head to one side and watched as a bag of hair elastics shot off the shelf and hit the floor with a resounding "thud". Mondie didn't move. She sleeping with the tranquility and peace of the dead. A stuffy toy dog quivered on it's shelf, then suddenly flew across the room and hit the wall, then flopped limply to the floor.

The fan started going. The air was shimmering with this white light, this irresistible beauty that Gemini controlled. Pens and pencils were flying off the desks and shooting across the air like missiles, leaving blue and charcoal spots on the white washed walls. Papers were fluttering everywhere like wounded doves, and clothes were shooting to the floor as though a mad spirit had taken the room by storm. 

It was over berore it even began. Gemini lay back down, her eyes flopping closed, and her fingertips returning to the regular colour. She fell into a dream filled sleep.

+ 

Miles away, in his home in Washington, Specs woke up with a start, then hastily groped around the bedside table for his namesake. Pushing his glasses on, he stumbled out of bed and ran to the computer. Something was wrong.

A powerful Wicca was loose in New York. 

+

Misprint woke suddenly, as though from a bad dream. But whatever it was, she couldn't remember. She yawned and buried her face in her what she thought was her pillow, completely oblivious to the fact that she was sleeping wrapped in Stephen's arms.

Stephen wasn't half as unaware.

"Uh…Misprint?" He whispered, nudging her slightly.

"Mmm…what?" She mumbled into his shirt. 

"You're kind of on top of me…and I gotta get up and get ready…"

"That's great…I…_what_?" She sat up like a bolt of lightening and checked to see if she was still wearing clothes. Stephen too, in her eyes, was deemed decent. Sighing in relief, she tried a smile.

"Wow. Innocence. There's a new venue for me."

"Do you remember last night?"

"Kinda blurry typed."

"Blood loss will do that to you." To avoid the blue-eyed glare, he quickly continued. "You were holding me as I was talking, and afterwards we…we both kinda fell asleep."

"Really? You didn't jump on the bandwagon to try and cop a good feel with your friendly neighborhood slut?"

"Misprint…" 

+ 

Specs was already on the plane to New York by the time Gemini had finally rolled over and turned off the alarm clock, with some difficulty. Due to last nights events, it was understandable that she hadn't gotten much sleep. What confused the girl was the fact that she couldn't remember it, and was baffled by this sudden exhaustion.

Mondie, too, had been oblivious to the whole episode. She woke up with mascara streaked under her eyes, and hastily tried to rub it off as she made a break for the bathroom. But even when she was sleepy, Gemini could spot things from a mile away.

"Aw…honey." She groaned, sitting up. "What's the matter?" Mondie stopped, with one foot in the bathroom. Caught. She sighed, slumped her shoulders, and sniffled.

"Mush found out about my ears."

"Finally." Gemini rolled her eyes. "You took long enough to tell him."

"I didn't _tell_ 'im, he found out!" She protested. "Which makes it even woise."

"How so?" Gemini asked, stretching and brushing her flattened hair back from her forehead. 

"He's gonna be hurt that I _didn't_ tell him." She reasoned. Gemini smirked as she slid out of bed and stumbled towards the bathroom, hoping Mondie would be too depressed to try and beat her there.

"Are you kiddin'?" Gemini asked as she sidled past. "He loves everything about you. He'll probably wanna _marry_ you or something."

+ 

Shade finally found Misprint, in front of her locker, neat and tidy as you please, putting away her books. Shade felt like the hours of pent up rage inside her was ready to come down on this not-so-fortunate spiky head.

"Mis. Print." She hissed, grabbing her by the arm. Misprint winced, but Shade assumed it was the "I'm in trouble" factor, as opposed to the "you're ripping up old scars" factor. "Where. Were. You?"

"I. Was. With. Stephen." Misprint replied. Shade's glare was so furious, Misprint felt as though she was melting into a puddle on the floor. She instantly regretted mocking her friends speech. She realised that every time she went missing, the worst must come to mind. She sighed and slammed her locker shut. "I'm sorry. I should of realized you'd think that."

"Hell yes!" Shade snapped, finally letting her arm go. Misprint shot a glance down at her shirt and was glad to see that she wasn't bleeding. That would _not_ have been a pleasant turn of events. "Mis, when you go off somewhere, you gotta leave a note or _something_. I was tearin' my hair out." She paused, and glanced at the dark rings under her friends eyes. She had a feeling they were not from the misuse of eyeliner. "Where _were_ you all night?"

Misprint was hesitant to reply. How could she tell her she had woken up in Stephens arms? If you told Shade they woke up together, and then told her they were fully decent, the facts did not compute in her brain. She was forced to cancel one out. And more likely than not, it would be the "decent" one. 

"I was with Stephen. We were _talkin'_. And we fell asleep. On opposite sides of the room." She said carefully. A little lie hurt no one. It often saved big time ass.

"Sure." Shade rolled her eyes. "I'm sure you were _talkin'_." This was different. She did not truly believe Misprint and Stephen had engaged in less than seemly behaviour, but just wanted to piss her off.

"We _talked_." She repeated indignantly. 

"Right. Comon. We gotta get to class."

+ 

"Shit!" Mondie cursed suddenly, opening her back pack. "I don't have my homework!"

"Big deal. It's Mrs. Orrello. Who really cares?" Gemini laughed, pulling her hair into two braids. 

"I dunno. With Shade and Misprint suddenly working so hard, I always feel a bit guilty when I'm off reading or goofing off instead of writing book reports." She said glumly, zipping the bag closed and slinging it over her shoulder. Gemini laughed.

"It's all an act." She assured her. "Shade and Misprint? Good students? More likely the gym will collapse at noon today." 

+ 

Jack sighed as he straightened his tie. Mrs. Orrello's class was the hardest class of all. It was the one with Shade in it. Many times had he wanted to talk to her, so many he couldn't count them all. He definitely wasn't pleased with his current situation. For God sakes, he was a slayer. And he didn't have enough courage to tell a girl that he liked her?

It was different when she had pointedly expressed the opposite to his face. And not politely either. So he did have a reason for this sudden cowardice.

It didn't stop him from constantly mentally berating himself.

Not to mention the fact that he was starting to feel a little guilty about all the times he had treated Chaos like an eight year old. Chaos! Of all people to start feeling sympathetic about! Maybe he was losing his touch. 

He sighed and picked up his back pack. He had a gut feeling something was going to happen today. Something big. He just wouldn't be able to tell anyone, even if they paid him.

+ 

"Seen Blink lately?" Mondie asked slyly. Gemini grinned demurely.

"Yeah. A little." She said, raising her eyebrows in a coy way.

"You two are so cute." Mondie said brushing her hair over the lack of her ears, and sliding the blue hair band on. "And you're always together."

"Ah, what can I say?" Gemini sighed happily. "He's magnetic."

+ 

Dutchy could feel the same thing Jack could. He could even sense it in his slaying partner, as he saw the boy glance up and down the halls, as though waiting for something. He ran to meet him, and then play punched him on the shoulder to grab his attention.

"Heya Kelly." He said. 

"Dutchy." He responded, nodding. Nothing had to be said. They both had the strange thought. Something was up.

+ 

The two girls chatted readily as they strode down the hall to their French class. Gemini couldn't remember feeling this good in years. After all, she was an orphan. It wasn't exactly the status that everyone was dying to be. And now with the added threat of vampires, she was feeling a little under the weather lately.

"And what about Jack and Shade?" Mondie volunteered pluckily. "They'd be really cute together."

"_Tell_ me about it." Gemini rolled her eyes. "They should just make out and get it over with." 

Gemini was simply engaged in girl talk. She had no idea what she was unleashing. But if the casual observer had picked up all the right pieces, he would slowly be able to fit them together as Blink brushed his hair behind his ears, slung his backpack over his shoulder, and watched as the metal clip on the end of one of the straps hit his leg, and stuck to it, as though it had been glued. 


	14. fourteen

****

Fourteen

Shade's head shot up from her notebook the minute Jack entered. He was breathless, as though he had been running all over the school looking for her and had suddenly remembered their first class was together.

Which was basically the summary of his morning.

Misprint glanced up in confusion as Shade shot from her seat and ran towards him.

"Jack." She breathed.

"Shade."

"You wanna find somewhere?"

"Uh huh."

"Let's go." She grabbed his hand and, in a moment, the two of them had vanished into the hallway, just as Mrs. Orrello arrived, ready to start the days work.

Misprint blinked. If getting a guy was that easy…

+

Gemini sat slowly at her desk, sketching a doodle. It started as a line. And then another. And then another. Soon the entire school was depicted, brick for brick, out of the cheap blue ink. 

Next, she drew a bevy of crocodiles attacking.

Mondie leaned over and raised an eyebrow. Mme. Ormand hadn't arrived yet, so the girls had precious little time to talk about trivial things. 

"Whassat?" She questioned. Gemini smirked.

"Crocodiles are attacking the school." She said simply. 

+ 

Mush sighed and stared down the empty hallway. Blink was taking an especially long time to get ready, and they'd be late for French if he didn't hurry up. He wouldn't have usually minded at all, Mme. Ormand wasn't the most pleasant of people.

But Mondie _was_ in that class.

He fiddled with something incessantly in his pocket. He had other reasons to be early that day.

"Blink!" He said impatiently, pounding on the door. "Comon! Let's go!"

"One sec!" Blink called, his voice unusually high. "I'm…I'm just having a little trouble with this zipper."

A zipper? Mush furrowed his eyebrows and stepped back from the door. Maybe his friend was having more, to put it lightly, serious issues than he thought. A few minutes passed. Mush could have jumped up and down with anxiety.

"Blink!" He called. "If you don't hurry up, I'm going to…"

"I'm comin', I'm comin'!" Blink exclaimed, pulling the door open, his fingers tight on the handle. "Jeez. You don't have any heart, do you, Mush?"

"I got plenty a' heart, now _move_." He said, as Blink tried to close the door with his hand still on the knob. Mush raised an eyebrow. "Hand _off _the knob, Blink." He reminded him gently.

"Right. Right…" Blink said distractedly. He wrenched his hand away and slammed the door. Then he had to yank his other hand from the outside knob. The finally, he joined Mush and the two of them bolted down the hallway for dear life.

+ 

Specs, too, was on quite the mission as he checked in to the Washington air port. Throughout means of which he could never discuss with anyone, he had already reserved a ticket on the next plane to New York, which would be arriving at two thirty, and he knew, for a veritable fact, he wouldn't get bumped.

The slayers council was always efficient in such matters.

He sat in the terminal, his suitcase under his seat. He was dressed very simply in a grey blouse and suit pants, knowing that they wouldn't let him on the plane if he was in his regular attire. He was the youngest on the council, but he was probably one of the most intelligent, so he made up for his age.

He didn't know why Jack hadn't reported to him immediately. This would only make things worse. He hoped he wouldn't get there too late…

+ 

Jack and Shade were practically sprinting marathon paced when they ran into Mush and Blink. Literally. Four screams echoed in the hallways as both parties fell backwards, with the exception of Blink who fell forwards onto Shade, his hand tight on her kilt pin. She flushed and kicked at his elbow, and with a cry of pain, he pulled away. 

"Sorry." Mush was saying breathlessly, gathering his books, which had fallen, and shoving them messily into his bag. "But we're late."

"What about you two?" Blink asked quickly.

"Uh…" Shade began. Jack helped her to her feet, and they exchanged a look.

"Getting supplies…" he started. 

"For Ms. Ormand. Slave labour. Y'know…" Shade finished. 

"Bummer." Mush said sympathetically. Blink nodded, leaning slightly towards the lockers. Shade gave him a strange look, but Jack's hand was already around hers and pulling slightly. She nodded.

"We gotta go." She said quickly.

"Us too." Mush and Blink replied just as fast.

"Bye." All four of them said simultaneously. Then in a few seconds, they were gone.

"Hurry up, Blink!" Mush yelled over his shoulder at the boy, who was staggering a little more than running. "I wanna have time to talk with Mondie!"

"You go!" Blink said, sounding strained. "I'll catch up later on."

"What's the matter with you?" Mush asked suddenly, seeing his friend jerk violently to the left, towards a row of lockers.

"I guess I'm just tired…" He replied, but in truth of truths, he was wide awake. And pretty confused. The metal of the backpack was still stuck fast to his thigh, and he was getting this strange pull from both sides.

It could be quite dangerous.

"A'right." Mush put on a final burst of speed and rounded the corner. In front of him was the French class. And down the hall, Mme. Ormand was coming towards him, with a stack of papers.

__

There's still time! He thought desperately. Maybe he could edge in a word or two. He dashed into the class room and skidded to a halt in front of Mondie.

"Hiya Mush…" She said in apprehension, but he glanced nervously up at the classroom door before jamming his hand into his pocket, pulling out a fake plastic ring with a huge, gaudy, plastic purple diamond on the top and placing it painstakingly neatly in the center of her desk.

"Heya Mondie. Sleep well? Marry me?"

+ 

Shade and Jack, hands still clasped, ran past Kloppman, who didn't give them a second look, up two flights of stairs, down the hall, and both nearly collapsed in front of his dorm room.

He fumbled in his pocket for the key, while Shade tapped her foot against the ground. He finally was able to successfully unlock the door, grab Shade, dash inside, and slam it behind him.

Before either one could say a word, they were stapled together, his hands on her hips, and hers wrapped around his shoulder blades. It wasn't a sudden, violent attraction. It was more a sense of duty. That they _had_ too.

Besides, the attraction was there all along. 

+ 

Misprint was pretty sure she was losing her senses as she glanced out the window. But a second look only confirmed the first. She rubbed her eyes, then, ignoring Mrs. Orrello's burst of protests, stood and rushed to the window.

"Faith…" Mrs. Orrello droned. "If you would _kindly_ take your seat…"

"What is it?" A few students asked, contradicting the teachers statement. Misprint's eyes were wide in her pale face.

"Crocodiles." She replied.

+ 

Blink managed to struggle a few more feet after Mush had left, before suddenly and violently flying, back first, straight into a row of lockers.

His head clanged against the doors with a sickening ringing sound, and his ankles and wrists shot towards the metal and stayed there, as though tied. He was stuck, suspended in a star fish position, a few feet off the ground.

"What the hell is going on?" He yelled, to no one particularly. There was no one around to hear his protests. He leaned forwards, trying to pry himself off the lockers (a really ridiculous predicament, when he thought back on it). He struggled valiantly, hearing the lockers ring out as they fought to keep him there.

His backpack had long since fallen off, but the metal bits were sticking straight up in his direction, as though he was magnetic.

"That's ridiculous." He muttered to himself, fighting a little harder to free himself. But it certainly seemed like the only logical situation. Well, as logical as unicorns or "angel" tank tops.

"C'mon…" He muttered, leaning forwards, his stomach clenching in fear, afraid he was going to suddenly fall flat on his face. "C'mon! Unstick! I command you!" 

But, unfortunately for the poor magnetic boy, he hadn't done this, so there was no way for him to _un_do it.

Then, just to make things perfect, her heard loud screams from down the hall. He groaned and would have hung his head, but there was no way. The back of his skull was as adherent as the rest of his body. _Great, just what I need._ He thought bitterly. _A bunch of my classmates watching me try to free myself from the lockers…_

But what he saw next was the farthest he could imagine from teenagers. 

He blinked, in confusion, then looked down at himself, then back up at the advancing army of reptiles.

__

Crocodiles?

+ 

"Wow, Mush." Mondie breathed, hardly daring to touch the newly acquired Cracker Jacks ring. "I don't know what to say." She added truthfully. They heard footsteps, and Mush grabbed her hands and closed her fingers around the ring, before sprinting to his seat.

"You can have time to think about it!" He yelled over his shoulder, just as Mme. Ormand entered the room with a hefty: "_Bonjour la classe!"_

"Bonjour Madame Ormand." Everyone drawled, except for Mondie, who was staring at the ring, fighting down the urge to laugh. Mush had always been a practical joker, but this was too much. The ring was cute. In the three year old kind of way. She wouldn't be surprised if it bore the Barbie emblem in the center. She shoved it onto her fourth finger and flashed it at Gemini, with a mock debonair grin. Gemini smiled back and bit her lip to stop from giggling. Mush was looking hopefully between the both of them.

"Today we are learning the irregular verbs, no?" The teacher ruffled through her notes. Madame Ormand was unique, to say the least. With yellow blonde hair, dark black thin eyebrows, a huge Italian nose, and a mass that could put an elephant to shame, she was quite the sight. 

"We learned those _last_ year, Madame." Someone giggled. She snapped the book shut.

"Oh…of course." She was infamous for her oblivion to her lessons. She only cared that the students learnt what she was teaching, regardless of _what_ she was teaching. This made for very hacked up lessons, but it wasn't a problem to her. "Then we start on…on weather, no?"

"Madame, that's grade _eight."_

"What were we learning last class?"

"Mathematics in French, Madame."

"Of course, oui." She said, the smile returning to her face once more as she opened her books. A couple of screams echoed down the hallway, followed by a snapping sound, like a giant jaw being closed. Madame blinked, as though this threw her off her lesson plan.

"I'll start with attendance." She decided, closing her book again, as indecisive as all get out, and picked up her attendance sheet. "Amanda Roberts…"

"Ici, Madame." Amanda drawled from the back.

"Kelly Dimmet." 

"Ici Madame."

"Oh my god!" a girl was screaming. "Get it away! Get it the hell away!"

"What's goin' on?" Mondie whispered to Gemini out of the corner of her mouth. Madame Ormand could be deadly if she caught her students talking.

"Maybe crocodiles are attacking the school." Gemini giggled. "In waves down the hallways."

"Sure." Mondie rolled her eyes. 

"Or someone just stuck a mouse down the back of Amy's shirt." Gemini shrugged. A high pitched scream erupted from the next room. 

"Oh my god!" A tuned voice screeched. A few more high pitched screams, like a siren. "Oh my god! There's a mouse down my shirt!"

Mondie raised her eyebrows at Gemini, who shrugged.

"She's a total bitch. It was bound to happen." The next room erupted in screams and odd noises, as though there was some deadly epidemic sweeping down the hall.

"_Really_." Madame snorted, her great chest heaving with irritation. "What _is_ going on?"

"HOLY FUCK!" Gemini yelled, jumping up onto her seat as the first crocodile dragged itself into the room. "CROCODILES!"

The room erupted in total pandemonium. Every single student, with a great chorus of banging and thumps, scrambled up to the top of their desks, while the teacher screamed, grabbed her chair, and darted towards the crocodile as though she planned to knock it out. As though sensing the danger, it swung around, it's tail lashing out dangerously. Mme. Ormand dropped the chair with a screech and climb up on her desk.

"Gemini! It's your drawing!" Mondie yelled over the chaos.

"I _know_." Gemini screamed back, fighting over the surges of screams as two more crocodiles made their dramatic entrance. 

"What did you _do_?"

"I _don't _know!" A sudden thought struck her. "Where's Blink?"

"Wasn't he with Mush?" Mondie asked, glancing back at Blinks desk. But, indeed, it was empty. Gemini went pale.

"Wheah is he? Mush! Where's Blink? What _happened_ to him?"

"He was sick or something!" Mush yelled. "He was…Oh my God, he's in the hallway!"

"Great…" Gemini moaned, burying her face in her hands.

"Blink ain't stupid enough to hang around! He'll find some way to _WHOA_!" Mondie stumbled as a tail hit the leg of her desk, causing it to warble slightly off balance.

"Mondie!"

"I'm alright, just a little…gah!" She yanked her hand away as a jaw snapped dangerously close to it.

"Crocodiles?" Mush was whispering, blinking down at the floor, as though his vision was deceiving him. "Cro…no…crocodiles?"

"Get them out of my class room!" Madame Ormand was screeching.

+ 

"Down!" Blink was yelling in what he thought was an authoritative voice. "Down…crocodile…no!" There were three or four poised beneath him, staring up at him with what looked suspiciously like hunger. He gulped. He was still splayed against the lockers, his attempts in escaping turning out futile.

And now he wasn't sure he wanted to escape.

The leader of the pack raised its nose and tested a snap at Blink's shoe.

"No!" Blink yelled. "Get away! Arrrr…" He growled. 

He didn't know if it was just his imagination, but the reptiles seemed to be giving him a sceptical look.

+ 

"Shhh…" Shade regretfully pushed Jack away. His hair was messed around his forehead, and her cheeks were flushed with the freshness of escaping from classes to go make out in ones dorm. She was sitting on his lap, his hands around her waist, thumbs hooked in the waist band of her kilt. Her arms were circled around the back of his neck, her breath coming out in short pants. In the distance, they could hear screaming. "You hear that?"

"Uh huh." he said regretfully. He dove in and nibbled at a pulse on her neck. She threw her head back, and tried to concentrate, but his antics weren't making it any easier. "Does it sound like we should go check it out?"

"Yeah." He admitted, pushing her down onto the bed and crawling on top of her, his lips covering hers.

+ 

"Somebody do something!" Misprint was yelling. But most of her class was too intent on running and screaming, some out the door, some onto the counters that surrounded the room, and some just on their desks. Misprint, herself, was up on the counter by the window, balling her hands into fists. Worry about Shade was driving her insane, not to mention the sheer crazyness of suddenly being attacked by crocodiles.

In New York!

"Hello?" She yelled at her frenzied class mates. "Hel_lo_!" She groaned as they only screamed louder. She hoped at least Shade and Jack were having a good time. And they had made it to a _dorm_ instead of let it overpower them in the hallway. She could hear barking from another class room and furrowed her brows, utterly confused.

"Oh God!" Someone was screaming. "Crocodiles!"

__

No shit. She felt her anger curl up inside of her and she could have turned around and kicked in the wall. "SHUT UP!" She yelled. No one answered. If potentially possible, their screams became even more blaring. 

"By God you people make me sick!" She screamed. 

+

Specs got off at the New York air port and hailed a taxi driving down the street.

"Saint Mary's Catholic School." He said. "Step on it."

The taxi driver needed no further instruction. Of course, he was a busy man, with no time to stop at red lights. For once, Specs was thankful. He missed New York, he had once thought it was the only city in the world for him. Then he had received the official summon from Washington and that had been it for him anyways.

He sighed and felt his senses tingling. Something was drastically wrong. And he had a feeling it would take a long time to set it right.

+ 

Noon time found a frantic Blink still magnetised to the lockers, a glum Misprint sitting on the desk, waiting in vain for some help to arrive, trying to condone the screams of her classmates, a hysterical, mourning Gemini, a love struck Mush, a desperate Mondie, and a very oblivious Shade and Jack.

"Mondie!" Mush yelled from his desk. "Have you thought about it?"

"About _what_?"

"Marrying me!" 

"Mush, this ain't the time!" She said, yelping as a crocodile threatened Gemini, who was clutching her face in horror.

"I never pictured it like this!" He grinned nervously. She gave him a look.

"Believe me. Neither did I." She said, raising a brow.

Misprint sighed, her head propped up in her hands, staring glumly at the ceiling. She didn't know how long it was going to be until the crocodiles eventually moved on, as she hoped they would. She glanced at her watch. It was noon already. 

Her head jerked up slightly when she first felt it. A low rumbling. The students were oblivious, most of the girls long since reduced to tears. The desk shook slightly. She placed her hands on the wood, trying to feel the vibrations through them, and could definitely sense the shivers.

"Oh God…" She groaned, shutting her eyes. "Not now. Of all the times, why now?"

"What's that?" One boy with spiky hair was asking suspiciously. The desks were shaking now, causing their refugees to scream and clutch them with pale fingers. 

"Earth quake!" Some girl screamed. A huge crash suddenly sounded, triggering an outbreak of shrieks that even Misprint joined, as every student in the school balled up as tight as they could and snapped their hands over their heads. Misprint did the same, and shut her eyes tightly, waiting for a beam of cement to snap her neck or for the desk to collapse from underneath her.

But strangely enough, that was all of it. The noise echoed through the hallways, and across the black top. A silence thickened in the class, as most of the students peeked out from their fingers or slowly straightened.

"What was that?" someone asked in a shaky voice.

"What the hell is going on taday?"

"The gym!" Someone moaned suddenly, pointing out the window. "Look at the gym!" 

There was no gym to look at.

Misprint furrowed her brows. This was getting just a little too weird for her. She had dealt with strange occurrences, but none as odd as this.

"'Scuse me!" She yelled, jumping off the desk and sprinting out into the hall, jumping over a few crocodiles on the way that snapped at her ankles with hungry jaws. She felt her heart speed up as she dashed into the hall and ran as fast as she could, dodging the reptiles as though they were logs in a forest. She rounded the corner and almost ran head first into Dutchy, who was looking especially harassed that morning. A crocodile growled at him, but he kicked it's side, sending it spinning across the hall.

"Dutchy!" Misprint demanded, stepping aside as a crocodile slithered past. "What's going on?"

"Does it look like _I_ know?" he snapped.

"Where's Bumlets an' Chaos?"

"Up on the third floor. They have Shop." He explained, running a hand through his hair. Misprint glanced down at the slithering reptiles, and back up at his form. "I hate to impose on you, but…you are the slayer…" She said slowly, a slight grin on her face. He rolled his eyes heavenwards, picked her up, and swung her around to his back, then piggy-backed her up the stairs and onto the second floor. 

+ 

"When are they gonna go away?" Gemini demanded to Mondie. Mondie's eyes widened in disbelief.

"How the hell should _I_ know ?"

"Why ah they here in the first place?"

"I repeat, how the hell should _I_ know?"

"How are we gonna get outta here?"

"_Gemini!_" Mondie groaned, burying her face in her hands. Gemini stared down at the army of reptiles slowly slithering around the class. Mondie was desperately trying to calm herself down. Mush was still looking stunned, as though someone had swung a bowling ball into his face, and half heart broken that Mondie was so ardently refusing to answer his proposal. 

"Well…we need to get through them to the phone to call the police." Gemini was murmuring desperately. "I…we…we need a sledge hammer or something…" She screamed when the said object suddenly appeared right in her hands. "How the hell…"

"Gemini, it's what you say!" Mondie screeched suddenly. They had gained most of the classes attention. Mondie glared at them. "Do you _mind?_" Her angry outburst did nothing for their curiousity. She groaned and turned back to Gemini. But the girl was already piecing it together.

"Mush…marrying you…an' Blink becoming magnetic…" 

A loud pitched barking sounded as a small brown dog bounded into the class room and jumped up onto the nearest chair, whimpering as the crocodiles gazed at it. Mondie raised her eyebrows.

"What's the dog doing here?" She asked, but Gemini had already figured it out. Her mouth set into a grim line.

"Amy the bitch." She said resignedly.

+

"Bumlets!" Misprint screamed, weaving through the huge, frantic crowd the minute she saw him. 

"Mis! Dutchy! What the hell is going on down there?" He questioned as soon as the pair caught up to him.

"'Cause it can't be what they're saying." Chaos added, her eyebrows shooting up as Misprint made no move to contradict that statement.

"We're overrun by crocodiles." Misprint stated glumly.

"Well…" Chaos paused, at a loss for words. Finally, she shrugged. "That's a first."

"Listen. Jack and Shade aren't in French. You're the only slayers in the building."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Dutchy said, clapping a hand on Misprint's shoulder. "We're meant to deal with vampires. Isn't this more of a job for Steve Erwin?"

"All jokes aside, if you guys have super strength…" Misprint continued, as though she had never been interrupted. "Maybe you could wipe out a couple?"

"I don't think so." Bumlets replied, crossing his arms. Misprint groaned. 

"Then at least come down with me so we can help the others."

"Fine." Chaos replied. The two of them turned to the stairs.

+ 

"A'right, you overgrown salamanders." Gemini said, standing on her desk with her hands on her hips. New powers. Might as well try them out. Maybe use them to do some _good, _for a change. "I command you. Get outta here." 

There was a slight pause as every crocodile in the room froze, as though they were listening. Then, in a flurry of lashing tails and green skin, they were all making for the door, knocking each other onto their sides in their haste to escape. Gemini smiled in relief. Before she could get to comfortable with the situation, though, they turned around and slithered back in, just as they had at the beginning of the attack.

"What?" Mondie furrowed her brow.

"Mondie? How 'bout now? You've decided now?" Mush called hopefully. Mondie could have torn her hair out.

"Mush, can we discuss this some other time?" She replied, as condescending as she could manage when under attack from reptiles. "When we're not all under Gemini's spell?"

"We're what?" Mush furrowed his brow. 

"Never mind. Talk to you later, love." She promised. Then she turned back to Gemini. The crocodiles were going crazy, spinning around and making for the door, then turning back as though they had just entered.

"I don't get it." Gemini said, slapping a hand to her forehead. "What did I do?"

"You confused them. Now they're supposed to be attacking and leaving at the same time."

"Well I didn't mean _that_."

"They're spell-struck _crocodiles._ They don't know that!" Mondie returned. She groaned and ran a hand through her hair, stopping just before she bumped the hair band. Now would not be a good time to reveal any more abnormalities. And she knew they weren't going to disappear any time soon.

"How do we get them to stop this?" Gemini whispered, watching the beasts turn one way and then the next, the over load of orders in their brains putting them slightly on edge.

"Am I the witch?" Mondie scowled.

+ 

Specs stepped out in front of the school and could hear screams. Just as he had suspected. No Wicca was able to hold off powers for a long time. He couldn't believe he had not been there before.

But it was obvious he had work to do.

He paid the taxi driver and then, as quick as possible, ran towards the school doors.

+ 

"A'right…" Gemini began. Mondie watched her carefully. Whatever she said could mean life or death for any one in the room. She just hoped her friend would think about the words that were coming out of her mouth. "Crocodiles! Look at me!"

This they did, and some how managed to be consistent as they turned this way and that.

"I want you to leave. Right now. Forget what I said before." She commanded. There was a slight pause. Then, much to both the girls amusement and horror, they started obeying all three orders, if possible. Their tails were lashing out and hitting the desks, causing their occupants to drop and grab onto the sides, trying not to fall off, which would mean certain, extremely gory death.

"Good going, Gem." Mondie snapped. Gemini flushed.

"What? You try being in my position!"

"If _I _were in your position, the earth would be caving in right now!" Mondie yelled angrily. There was a slight pause. Then, the rumbling started.

Gemini was quite sure it wasn't the gym.

+ 

"Wait!" Misprint murmured, stopping the lot of slayers as they reached the stairs. The railings were shaking slightly, and she could hear murmurs of fear from the class rooms. "What's that?"

"Sounds like the building's collapsing…" Chaos murmured, raising an eyebrow.

+ 

Blink felt the vibrations long before anyone else. It's hard not to, when your magnetised to a locker. The doors were rattling on their hinges, and Blink was rattling on the doors.

"What is it with today?" He pleaded. He got no answer.

+ 

Shade and Jack didn't hear a thing.

+ 

"Shit!" Gemini suddenly yelled. "Mondie!"

"Oh no…" Mondie shut her eyes tightly. "Gem! Make it stop!"

"Stop!" Gemini pleaded. But it was no use. The foundations were shaking now, and she could hear some horrible sounding cracks from the walls. The class was back to its clamorous uproar as many fought for a safe, earth quake approved location. "You hear me? Stop! Don't fall!"

The side wall buckled, as though about to cave in on them. Shelves were falling from the walls like leaves from the trees, and the glass on the windows simultaneously shattered, causing an eruption of screams as it showered onto the class, like icy rain.

Gemini crumpled into a ball on her desks and felt the tears squeeze from in between her eyes. What today had been was almost a game, when she thought about it. If she had known what the extent of her words could do to every one else in the morning, she would have monitored what she had said. Wouldn't have given Mondie her powers. Wouldn't have let it happen…

__

It's me own fault, she realised with a pang of guilt. _I'm the one that's going to be responsible for the end of the world!_

Mondie turned to Mush. If she was going to die, she might as well do the thing properly.

"I'll marry you, Mush!" She promised. Mush's face, hidden beneath his hands, lit with a glow when heard these words.

"You just made me the happiest man alive!" He yelled back, as a few lamps fell to the ground and shattered. Mondie gave him one last smile, before burying her head under her hands and waiting for the crash that was starting.

"Stop." A new voice said, in a normal tone. So normal, if it wasn't for the sudden lack of noise, she wouldn't have heard it at all. She was waiting for the huge chunk of cement, but instead, she found nothing. Nothing at all. Only the raspy breathing of her fellow class mates, and the patter of the crocodiles feet who, lord above, were still trying to decide whether to go or whether to stay.

Gemini slowly raised her head, bits of dust and cement stuck in her burnt red curls, and peering through the curtain of dishevelled hair, saw a tall, dark boy with glasses, dressed in a pair of dress pants and a soft blouse, standing, quite casually, in the middle of the room. The indifferent observer would have recognised him as a regular teenage boy dressed up for something, looking bored and slightly amused.

"Gemini." He said, crossing the room. She shifted backwards slightly. The day had been strange enough. She didn't need any more oddities. But she found she couldn't move. His hand reached out and pressed itself on her head, flattening the curls. 

Gemini suddenly experienced the strangest thing she had ever felt. It was as though throughout the day, there was a ball of energy in her head, and everything that went wrong, there was a crack that formed in it. The boys hand was healing the cracks over, fixing her. Fixing the day? She didn't know. Her eyes were closed. The amount of energy coming off of him was incredible, and tantalising.

She took a deep breath as the ball of energy was completely formed, and she could open her eyes again.

The crocodiles were gone.

The walls were no longer caving in. 

Mush's face was bright red with embarrassment whenever he looked at Mondie, who enjoyed returning these glances with devilish grins. 

And instead of a frightened looking dog, Amy was sitting on the ground, her eyes wide and her mouth hanging open, tongue lolling over her bottom lip.

+ 

"AGH!" Without warning, Blink slammed forwards and did a belly flop onto the tile, feeling his head make a sickening cracking sound against it as his forehead hit. He groaned and watched the stars burst in front of his eyes, and the strange ringing in his ears grow louder.

Well, at least he wasn't on the locker any more.

He looked up fearfully, expecting the crocodiles to do what any meat hungry reptile would. Go for the neck. But to his astonishment, they were no where. He blinked a couple times, as though his eyes might be deceiving him. Maybe they had been. Maybe there _were_ no crocodiles.

"Blink!" A voice called. He looked up to see Misprint running towards him, Chaos, Bumlets, and Dutchy in tow. "What the hell are you doing down _there_?"

"I dunno _what_ I've been doing." He replied vaguely, letting his head drop onto the floor again. He was extremely dizzy. "Or, maybe I should say, what I've been _drinkin'…_"

"You're a mess." Misprint groaned as she tried to lift the boy from the tile, but Blink wasn't co-operating. Bumlets couldn't blame him. If he had taken such a crack to the head, he wouldn't exactly be in the mood to get up and go. 

"What the hell just happened to me?" He groaned, finally struggling up into a sitting position. "I was magnetized! And a meat display!" He buried his face in his hands. An ugly bruise was already forming on his forehead, and Misprint felt a slight sympathy for the boy. She was surprised he could even think straight. 

"A'right…" Bumlets was looking around. "So. Mis. Where are your crocodiles?"

"They were here! Ask anyone!" She bristled, her face turning slightly pinker. Dutchy, however, was obviously supporting her.

"S'true Bumlets. And I think if we suddenly get a heard of crocodiles attacking..." He raised his eyebrows. "Anything can happen."

As they spoke most of the students were streaming out into the halls, staring around them, and checking underfoot, to see what happened to their invaders. But, much to their amazement, they were reptile free. This merited, obviously, a lot of discussion. Misprint could barely hear herself think over the noise.

"Comon." She yelled to Dutchy. "Let's go find the others and try to sort this out."

+ 

"Who are you?" Gemini whispered, the second the boys hands left her head. He sighed and glanced around. Most of the students were talking in loud, amazed voices, but most were staring at Gemini and the boy. Mondie was frozen on her desk, while Mush was staring at his feet. A lot of the students were grouped around Amy, who was shrieking and claiming she had been a dog. 

"Not here." He said quickly, catching the eager, curious gazes of the class. "Is there someplace we can talk?"

"Let's go to Jack's dorm." Mondie suggested. "We can get the others on the way.."

"Guys!" Gemini and Mondie looked over to see Misprint, Dutchy, stride in, followed by Chaos and Bumlets who were supporting the half dazed Blink. 

"Blink!" Gemini yelled, scrambling off her desk and running across the room. Blink tensed himself for an impact, but instead, got a gentle embrace as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "You're okay!"

"Uh…kinda…" Blink grinned. He wanted to hug her back, but Chaos and Bumlets had his arms in a tight grasp. He felt rather vulnerable as Gemini planted a huge kiss on his cheek. 

"Man, look at that bruise!" Mondie offered, just behind Gemini. Blink winced and smirked slightly. Specs was looking a bit more hassled as more and more people began to stare at the whole group of them.

"Gemini…this is kinda serious…"

"A'right, a'right. Jack's dorm. Let's go." Gemini said, giving Blink one last hug. The group of them quickly escaped the prying eyes into the hall, where they had to fight through about fifty or so crowds of hysterical students and teachers trying to get their attention out the front door.

+ 

Shade moaned as Jack's hand slid under her shirt, and his fingers drew soft circles on her stomach. She ran her fingers through his hair, caught in this veritable web of emotion, both of them resigned.

Shade and Jack's eyes opened simultaneously. 

"Oh shit." Shade hissed, wriggling out from underneath him. Jack fell backwards, shoving his hair out of his face. The two of them stared at each other, wide eyed, their shallow panting filling the room. Shade gulped, and flicked her hair nervously over her shoulder. Her top was undone, she realised with discomfiture, and quickly fumbled around the buttons, trying to do it back up.

"What was that?" Jack asked in a whisper. Shade shrugged, her fingers shaking as she tried in vain to do up her top.

"Don't look at me." She mumbled, closing the last button, but not raising her eyes as she stood and grabbed a brush. She ran it through her hair a couple times, then started braiding it.

"Shade…we just…"

"I don't know!" She snapped. There was a silence as he watched her fasten the elastic around the end of her braid, and smooth out the wrinkles in her blouse. A slow smirk came onto his face.

"It wasn't half bad, was it?" He grinned. She gave him a look, and opened her mouth to reply, just as the door burst open. 

The whole crew stormed in.

Gemini had a piece of duct tape over her mouth.

"Hey Shade." Misprint said, wiggling her fingers in a little wave. Shade blinked as she stared at the strange ensemble.

"Why does Gem have tape over her mouth, why is Blink looking like he was run over by a steam roller, and _who are you_?" She asked all in one breath. Misprint sat down on the bed next to her, as they sat Blink down on the bean bag chair, and the rest of the slayers took a seat wherever there was space. Gemini was leaning against the wall, her scowl apparent, even under the duct tape. "Blink fell off of the lockers and hit his head, an' Gemini…well…we had to tape her mouth shut, because on the way up the stairs, she almost killed Mush, almost turned Blink into a newt, an' almost caused a huge earth quake in upper Mongolia."

"Well that helps." Shade said lightly. Misprint shook her head and closed her eyes. But Jack was looking at the boy. 

"Specs!" He smirked. "What brings you to New York?" Specs ignored him, and glanced pointedly at Gemini.

"You were harbouring a fully blown witch and didn't _tell _anyone?"

"A what?" Jack demanded.

"Mmm _mmph?_" Gemini demanded. Jack was looking just as dazed as Gemini. Mondie and Mush were simultaneously looking from Gemini to Specs, while Misprint and Shade exchanged a confused glance. Chaos was looking nondescript, but it was rare for Chaos to show her confusion. She, Dutchy, and Bumlets exchanged an ominous glance.

"Yeah. Could feel it. Even in Washington." He remarked. This brought about a chorus of murmurs of confusion for everyone present.

"We had no idea, Specs." Dutchy finally said. "Otherwise we would have reported it." 

"Gemini's a _witch_?" Shade asked, raising her eyebrows. Specs turned to her, and she fell silent under his stern look. 

"So that's why everything was happening today." Misprint breathed. She raised an eyebrow at Gemini. "You willed the earth to cave in on itself?"

"Uh…" Mondie smiled guiltily. "Heh heh heh…"

"We ain't pointing fingers at anyone, she didn't do it on purpose." Specs said, trying to calm this rush of realisation and sullen amusement. 

"Mmmph mmmmm mm _mmmmmmph_ mmph mmm." Gemini added. Specs turned to her and sighed.

"No, we'll un-tape you when we have this figured out." He dug into his bag, searching for something. There was a silence as every one watched his movements. He muttered something that sounded suspiciously like a swear word under his breath, then pulled out a thick, nondescript looking green book that said "Mathematics 11" on the cover. 

Mush raised his eyebrows and opened his mouth to say something, but shut it again as Specs opened it. The pages were covered in an ancient looking writing, with symbols and diagrams littering the paper. Specs murmured as he flipped through it, his dark eyes flicking over the paper behind his glasses.

"Math?" Mush finally asked.

"What?" Specs glanced up. "You think I'd walk around with a book that said "Wicca For Dummies" on the cover?" 

"Well…no…" Mush admitted, but he was cut off by Specs.

"Here we go. Man, this is gonna take a lot." He turned to Gemini, who looked pale and scared as he reached out and placed a hand over her curls. He closed his eyes and muttered something.

Misprint jumped and shuffled backwards as a burst of light erupted from his fingers, and Gemini dropped lifelessly to the floor, like a sack of potatoes.

"Gemini!" Mondie and Blink exclaimed, jumping up. The two of them rushed towards her, almost bowling Specs over. Mush, Misprint, and Shade followed. Only the slayers remained where they were, calm as ever.

"It's a'right, you guys!" Chaos grumbled, rolling her eyes. "She ain't dead."

"No. Just a little drained." Specs said slowly, closing the book. He himself looked suddenly exhausted. "I had to lessen her powers. You can take the tape off now, if you want." 

They managed to dump her onto Jack's bed. She looked peaceful, as though she was only sleeping. The patch around her mouth was slightly redder from where the tape had been. Misprint sat down on the bean bag chair, while Mondie and Mush made themselves comfortable on the floor. Blink sat by Gemini, every now and then glancing down at her to see if she'd wake. 

They concurrently looked up at Specs, who realised, under the power of eight pairs of eyes, he had to explain a lot. 

"A'right." He sighed. "Every once in a while, you get a night when the planets aline. At that night, four slayas, an elemental, a god incarnate, and a witch are born. _And_ a counciller for all of them."

__

An elemental, Shade realised, glancing down at her hands. Fire, water, wind, and earth. Was she one? She highly doubted she was a god incarnate, and Gemini was the witch. Maybe she was nothing. She stopped her thoughts and listened to the rest of Specs explanation. 

"The slayers receive they're powers at the age of six. The witch's powers are activated on their sixteenth Winter Solstice, and the god incarnate and fire elemental get theirs activated on their sixteenth Halloween." He paused and stared at the four slayers and the sleeping Gemini. "And…to be truthful…I ain't never heard of a witch attending _the same school_ and not knowing it."

"There's a slayers council in Washington, with a member for every state." He continued. "I'm representing New York. We've been searching for our witch, god incarnate, and elemental for a _long_ time. We hoped to find them before their respective solstices and Halloweens…otherwise something like this might…and did…happen. Since Gemini has no parents, it was hard to track her down. We even thought she might have died young." He paused and a wry smile quirked his lips. "Then, low and behold, she's attending the same school as our slayers. Right under our noses."

No one had dared to talk during this explanation. He continued pacing and clarifying the details of the justification.

"It's always easier to find the witch. The God incarnates and Elementals are always difficult. We're still searching for them, even though their powers were activated long ago." 

"Have you checked the rest of the school?" Dutchy asked. Specs shook his head.

"No, but we plan to get right on it. You never know…"

"So you're staying in New York?" Bumlets grinned. Specs nodded.

"It don't make no sense for me to try and control the holy lot of you from Washington. An' besides…" He looked sternly at Gemini. "I'm gonna have to teach her how to control her powers before they get out of hand again. She's the most powerful witch we've had in years." 

"In years?" Misprint repeated. He nodded grimly.

"Something big is happening." He replied. "We don't know what it is. But we're gonna find out soon." 

"Hey…" Shade said suddenly. Specs turned his gaze to her, and she placed her hands on her knees. "Have…well…I have this…strength thing, but…" She glanced over at Jack. "Apparently, I'm not a slayer. Y'think you could…maybe I'm a…"

"No." Specs said brusquely. "You've already been checked. And you're not part of the prophecy." He gave her a long, calculating look. "We don't know what you are."

+

Enter my favourite line. "Hi Mondie. Sleep well? Marry me?"

I gots to go, beloved readers, so nothing big today. We were down in Oregon for a week, and therefore, quite unable to update. But we figure we'd make it up to you.

Yours,  
Mis


	15. fifteen

****

Fifteen

Misprint had to sigh the minute Shade disappeared through the window. The whole day had been one big circus to her, and she couldn't exactly say she was looking forwards to Spot's visit. 

Gemini had been quite indignant when she woke. Specs had to go and explain it to her. Then he had told her he had lessened her powers for the next twenty four hours, which made her very irritated indeed. Misprint couldn't blame her. If _she _suddenly found she was the most powerful witch in the world, and then had her powers taken away, she would be pretty pissed off as well. 

She jumped as the window rattled, but then let herself relax, but not by much. Judging from the shape of the figure out the window, it was Spot. No surprises.

She easily crossed the room and shoved the window open. He slid through it and circled his hands around her waist.

"Heya Mis." He smiled. She gave him a terse smile back. She found it worked to just be emotionless in these visits. It was the only way to get through them. She saved all her emotional outbursts for Stephen, who was generous enough to take it and deal with it. 

Spot paused, then closed his eyes. His smirk deepened.

"Tension." He remarked simply. Misprint nodded. She didn't feel like explaining the entire day to him over again in detail. She was still trying to process bits of it herself. It was like when thy had first found out about vampires. The hard way.

"It's a long story." She replied, but he was already nibbling at a pulse on her neck. She closed her eyes and automatically wrapped her arms around his waist. She had to give up thought, and just be a body. She was finally able to stop the flow of her mind, when he suddenly froze.

She glanced at him as he lifted his face off her skin an inch, and inhaled deeply, as though trying to catch vague traces of some kind of perfume. His face travelled up the length of her throat, over her cheekbone, and into her hair. She winced as his fingers dug into her shoulders, so strong, she was sure they'd cause bruises.

"Whassa matter?" She asked softly, but before she could even get a satisfactory reply, he drew back his fist and punched her square across the face.

Misprint usually would have been able to take a punch. She may not have been the strongest of the school, but she knew a little about fighting. But being hit by a vampire is more than a human being can handle.

She stumbled backwards onto the laundry-strewn bed, her head snapping backwards and bouncing on the soft mattress. She could feel her jaw throbbing, and propped herself angrily up on her elbows, to see him standing above her, hands balled tightly into fists. She stared up at him in disbelief. Her feelings were flooding into her, like dams that had suddenly burst. She opened her mouth to say something, but he beat her to it.

"Who?" He spat. She raised her eyebrows.

"What? What are you talking about?"

"Who was it, Misprint?" He said, teeth gritted together. She glared.

"I don't what you're talking about." She said defiantly, maybe with a little more attitude then was wise. He crawled over top of her, grabbed her wrists, pushed them together, and then stapled them above her head.

"Don't lie to me."

"I ain't lying!"

"You were with someone." He said, cocking his head to one side. "I can smell it all over you."

"Me?" She asked weakly. Aside from him, she had never even thought about any boy in the school like that. They were all law abiding and hideously goody-two-shoes, or hideously perverted, neither of which she found attractive. She had never found the nightly slashing attractive either, but in that matter, she had no choice. She raised her eyebrows. "I don't…"

Before she could even finish the sentence, he slugged her across the jaw again. Her head was knocked to the side, but she pressed her lips firmly together. She was _not_ going to give him the satisfaction of hearing her whimper. She stared at the covers, feeling a strange fire flowing through her veins. Her anger was pulsing in time with her heart beat, and she could feel it boiling within her rib cage. 

A sudden image hit her. It was of her and Stephen waking up together, arms wrapped around each other as though neither could bear to let go. She smirked. Seems Spot's senses had failed him. She turned to him.

"You got it all wrong, Spot."

"Mis, you reek of it." He spat. She jutted her chin out aggressively. Pissing him off was suicide, but she had sometimes wished to be dead instead of endure this every night. 

"So what if I did?" She challenged. He clenched his jaw. "Why would you care?"

"Why would I care?" He repeated. He pulled her up off the bed, grabbed her collar, and lifted her a few inches. She shut her eyes together tightly as he dragged her towards him. "Because you're mine, Misprint."

"I ain't nobodies by myself." She insisted. He growled.

"Wrong. I claimed you…" His fingers found the initials he had first drawn on her, and pressed against them. She gritted her teeth, and stared him right back in the eye. 

"Still doesn't make me _belong_ to you. Lemme go!" 

"Who was it?"

"I'm not telling you!" She replied, remembering the way Stephen's eyes had gone cold when he told her the story. "I wouldn't tell you for anything."

"Yeah?" He raised his eyebrows angrily.

"Yeah." She replied. He let her go. She almost fell as her feet hit the floor, but she hastily regained her footing. He punched her, his knuckles digging into the bones around her eye. She clenched her teeth, spun around, and punched him back.

To her surprise, he stumbled, his eyes widening in surprise. She stared at her own fist in amazement. It was happening again.

Before she had time to sift through the consequences in her mind, she lashed out at him again, digging her nails across his face. She wanted to hurt him as many times as he had hurt her. He grabbed her arm. With her free arm, she punched him, enjoying the cry of pain. He threw her to the floor, and she tried to stand up again, but when she was half way, he grabbed her hair and yanked. She cried out when tiny pin pricks of pain stabbed into her scalp. 

"Lemme go." She yelled.

"Tell me who it was, Mis." He said. With every word he tightened his grip on her spikes. She cried out, and felt her eyes water in pain and anger. 

"No!" She screamed. With a deft kick to his shins, she sent him sprawling backwards. She gasped and raised her hands to her head, which felt as though it had all the hair ripped out of it in one yank. She tried to get her bearings, but he yanked her up, and smashed his fist into her face.

She opened her eyes and watched her own blood soak the carpet. She growled, then suddenly launched herself at knees and tackled him. She didn't know what happened. She jabbed into anything she could find with her fists, and was only satisfied if she heard him groan. 

They fought for how long, she couldn't remember. Only that there was pain, and lots of it. Blood on the carpet. She could see the amazement in his eyes when she was able to hurt him. She felt a sick satisfaction somewhere inside of her…it disgusted her. She clawed at his skin, and left red marks everywhere she went.

Somehow he flipped her over and slammed her forehead against the wooden post of the bed. A buzzing exploded in her, and her head was filled with a high noise. The immediate pain was blocked by a repetition of her forehead colliding with the wood, until he let her go and she fell backwards. It was almost as though she was in slow motion. The blood soaked bed post…the ringing in her ears, the look of rage and disbelief on his face, and the ragged sounds of her own breath…she hit the floor.

A tense circulation of air was the one thing that kept her from slipping into a coma. She had never heard him breathe before. Tersely, she pushed herself upward to her knees, and looked up at him. Invisible fingers of mind control were brushing at her thoughts. She closed her eyes.

"Stephen." She whispered. He nodded. The blood dripping off his face was hardly visible through her blurred vision. She had done it. She didn't know how, but she had somehow hurt him. But his eyes…they were filled with a sick recognition. She closed her own. She had just given him away.

He turned and stalked to the window, flipped outside of it, and perched on the frame. He turned a hate filled gaze to her.

"You're going to regret ever letting him touch you, Faith." He told her. Then, in the blink of the eye, he was gone.

__

Damn it, thought Shade irritably, as Jack ran his stake through another vampire. _Chaos, Bumlets, AND Dutchy had to go and leave me with Jack. _She knew that the said boy had played a part in this decision. _Wants to get his big O from watchin' me slay._ She thought, doing a roundhouse kick and knocking a vampire backwards.

Specs's explanation had been brief and informative. Things were starting to fall into place for Shade. Still, nothing explained Mondie's cat ears, or Shade's sudden strength. But she knew those things would soon be presented to her, in a way that made sense. Specs radiated that kind of assurance.

The vampire grabbed her shoulders, but she rammed her head into his own, and then kneed him where it counts. He bent over, groaning. She pulled out her stake and jabbed it into his back, watching in satisfaction as he fell to the ground as nothing but ashes.

She glanced up to see Jack staring at her. She flipped her braid over her shoulder and wiped the sweat off her brow. Why didn't he get the point? She was _not_ going to be his fling. It was all or nothing, and his breaking up with Amy was enough to tell her that she had just been a rebound girl.

This was all on the assumption that Gemini had caused the make out scene that day.

Shade knew it was a spell, and she was under that influence, but it had made her feel not-so-bad to be kissing him. She tried to get the thought out of her head, but it was firmly lodged in there, almost like some strange rule, some twisted form of common sense. 

She glared at her watcher.

"What?" She snapped.

"Nothing." He smirked. There was a hiss, but the vampire was gone before it even had a chance, and Jack was dusting off the stake. Shade sighed and shook her head. She was never entirely sure on why he didn't have a little _fun_ before he killed off the stupid things. He suddenly looked up. "Heya Shade?"

"What?" She replied, already walking away. She didn't want to deal with him, especially when she seemed to be under some kind of slayers alternative to PMS. 

"You wanna go out some time?" She stopped dead in the middle of the sidewalk and felt her stomach drop. She turned around slowly, and tried to remember exactly what he had said to her on Halloween, as soon as they had explained the situation to every one else. The tense moment outside the dorm. Hadn't he made it clear to her that she was rebound?

"What ever happened to "About las' night…" " She paused, realising that's where he had ended. Her stomach was still dropping, and she was pretty sure it was in the bowels of hell by the feel of it. 

"You didn't let me finish." He replied, with a wry smirk. She raised her eyebrows.

"I've _had _brush offs, Jacky." She said evenly. "Hell, I wrote the book on them. And it always begins with "about last night…" He cut her off.

"Really? Then how does it finish?" She paused, and took a deep breath.

"It was great…but I think we'd woik better as friends…I ain't ready to commit to a serious relationship…take your pick."

"I was gonna finish it kinda different."

"Yeah? Like how?"

"That we should do it more often." He grinned. She shoved the stake back into her jeans. His eyes were tight on hers, and she felt a little prettier.

"I'll think about it. There's one behind you."

Spot dropped, silent to the ground, his eyes glaring into the darkness. Stephen. It had been a while. Ten years, maybe? What the kid was doing back in New York interested him. In New York and stealing Misprint. He stole around to the boys building and stared up at the windows, trying to sift out Stephen.

Of course, the sheer coincidence of it all was quite amusing. The same people Spot had dealt with meet up and make out. Yes, it had been a while since he had been involved with Stephen. And _her…_

He suddenly rooted out the source. Smiling slightly, he floated up to the third story window, and perched on the window sill.

There he was.

He had obviously grown since Spot had seen him. If it wasn't for the other senses he possessed, he would never thought it was the frightened little six year old he had seen ten years ago in the very same city. He was shutting down his computer, clad only in a pair of dark jeans, his hair helter-skelter around the frame of his face. Spot smiled as he saw the heavy red marks across his skin. It was touching to know that his influence went such a long way.

Spot slid the window open with a rattling jar. Stephen jumped and looked up, his face going pale when he saw him. 

Stephen wasn't surprised. He knew it was only a matter of time before Spot found out from somebody, Misprint, more likely than not, that he was at the same school. And that he was still alive and kicking. And he still remembered. 

He knew he should have left. He didn't even know why he came back. Maybe it was for Misprint. Maybe something called him back to New York to help her.

Or maybe he was just stupid.

But it certainly froze his insides to see Spot slide in through the window, and deftly closed it behind him. He stood and made a run for the door. His heart was pounding in his chest, and sweat had broken out all over his body. He knew Spot wasn't here for a friendly hello.

He reached for the knob, but suddenly Spot was in front of him, smirking.

"Heya kid." He said. Stephen stumbled backwards. "S'been a while, hasn't it?"

Stephen had nothing to say. It had been like this before. He had frozen in the alley…letting the vampire take what he wanted…watching…he tried to say something, but the demon had frozen the words in his mouth. Spot turned condescending, raising his eyebrows.

"Whassa matta?" He simpered. "Cat got your tongue?"

"Spot…" He croaked. "Whaddaya…"

"You don't gotta talk." Spot smirked. "Jus' think. Real loud. I can hear you."

"Why ain't you letting it go?" He finally managed. "Why can't you just lave me alone, instead of…instead of the way you keep comin' back for Misprint?"

"I won't leave _you_ alone?" Spot repeated. "Who came back to New York? And as for Misprint…" He laughed derisively. "She _needs_ me."

"She could certainly do with a lot less scars." Stephen said boldly. Spot's smirk turned into a murky glare, and before Stephen could even blink, he was in front of him, fingers wrapped around his collar. 

"You were a lot cuter when you were six." He said, raising an eyebrow ominously. "You didn't talk that much."

"Lemme go…" Stephen pleaded. Spot laughed.

"Oh no." He said softly. "Ten years ago, I left you alone in that alleyway." He raised his eyebrows. "Just thought I'd drop by. Y'know. To say _hi_." 

Misprint woke suddenly, lying stiffly on the floor. Her head was buzzing like a beehive, and she could taste blood from her tongue and lips. She groaned and sat up, feeling her joints scream in protest. What had happened was all blurry…she glanced at the clock…six a.m.

It was a wonder Stephen wasn't breaking down the door. She knew by now that he felt whatever she did. Usually she went to him. But…

__

Stephen.

I told Spot, she realised, with a numb kind of horror. _I told him! An' Stephen…_Desperately, she reached out with her mind to see if she could find the boy. But there was a blank void of nothingness.

Like before she had met him.

She scrambled to her feet and stumbled towards the window, her head pounding. She calmed herself in the knowledge that he was asleep. Not uncommon for a regular boy at six in the morning. 

She couldn't quite remember how she had climbed onto the fire escape without falling. And with the loss of blood, and the way her limbs weren't working properly for her, it was a wonder she had managed it. She almost tumbled as she bolted down the stairs, almost broke her neck as she jumped from the last platform, almost twisted her ankle as she dashed across the snow soaked lawn.

__

I gotta wake him up, she thought, and giggled wryly. He would be opposed to cleaning her up so early in the morning. And so many cuts! Bruises! He would be enraged with her. But he always was a little pissed off at her anyways. 

She opened the window of Racetrack's dorm and hastily stepped over him. She didn't want to wake him. Too many questions. It took too much time.

She had to see Stephen.

She edged out the door and stole down the hallway, her heart ceasing to beat, her throat as dry as cotton. She knocked hesitantly on the door. Again, she heard and sensed nothing from within. 

"Stephen?" She whispered. No answer. She bit her lip so hard she ripped open the scab, and fresh blood hit her teeth. "Stephen, you asleep?"

He wasn't even dreaming.

Her fingers fumbled on the knob as she pushed the door open. The darkness of the room was hard to adjust to. She had been running through blackness, but this seemed deeper. Sinister.

"Stephen?" It came out a squeak. An abstruse figure was sprawled on the floor. A sick fragrance hit her, and she shut her eyes, realising it was the stench of blood. 

__

God, no…She begged, but, against her better interests, she let her eyes slide open.

He was lying there, throat ripped open, shirt torn at the back. Eloquently carved into his lower back were two letters.

__

Shadows…Misprint throught, feeling her stomach twist. _Just the shadows of mine…just the shadows…_She walked a few steps forwards, eyes straining against the darkness. They caught on the jagged edges of torn flesh. More than just shadows. The initials had been traced, carved deeper into the muscle, the blood staining the skin around them. Misprint felt sick.

She felt her eyes roll up in her head and, in a liquid motion, fell, her head cracking against the floor. 

The students stood in ominous rows, clad in their uniforms and black sweaters. Misprint shivered, not wanting to stare pointlessly at the dark coffin, surrounded by the white snow. The teachers were standing at the back, while a priest was droning on about life and death and other matters.

The sun was setting in a fiery ball of hate, the sky turning red. The snow was slowly reflecting it, turning a light pink colour. She didn't care. 

Misprint stared down at her shoes. She wasn't wearing her rainbow socks, and her hair was parted and nicely tucked behind her ears. Today merited a little respect.

After all, he _was_ the boy that stitched her up.

She fought down the sobs that weren't there and studied the scuffs on her shoes. She could feel Shade glance at her, standing beside her, but didn't care enough to glance back. A part of her was missing. It was cold and dead in the coffin.

Stephen was dead. It was a cold slap in the face, and hard to process. This strange little counterpart in her mind was there no longer. Now no one understood.

Not even Shade.

The police had come by, of course. They had studied the body and studied the room and studied the files on his computer. And they had interviewed the students. The only information that they could get was that he was a quiet boy, who didn't talk to anyone and didn't have any friends. But, they always added, he probably found solace in his steady girlfriend, who visited him every night.

So they had interviewed her.

She felt horrible, having to lie to conceal the fact that the boy was murdered. _He was depressed,_ she remembered saying, with the widest, most innocent eyes she could muster. _He'd always tell me about how he wanted to leave it all behind…he often said that we should…y'know…do it together. To be together forever in the afterlife…but I was too scared. I didn't know he would actually do it…_

Everyone else in the school had begun to avoid her. No one knew the details of their relationship, but they knew well enough that she was more than just sad. She was seriously depressed. Some made jokes about how she was mourning the fact that she wouldn't be getting any, because no one else would even look at her twice. 

__

Why can't they just mind their own business? she thought viciously. She now realised what other people thought mattered. It could _hurt_.

She felt herself sway, and realised she was going to topple over. Quick as lightening, Shade placed a hand on he arm, keeping her upright. She nodded thankfully, without glancing up. She knew if she looked up into the eyes of her friend, she would burst out into tears. Being with Spot had weakened her, and times before when she would never feel the urge to cry, she found she was easily susceptible to tears.

She suddenly twisted her head around. He was there. She knew he was. Some people glanced at her edgily, wondering why she suddenly found such a fascination at the top of the school building. No one knew.

Perched on top of it, like a gargoyle, was Spot Conlon, staring down at her. She couldn't make out his expression.

She wasn't sure she wanted to. 

Shade caught the movement of her friends head, and her fingers tightened on her arms. This was not a good time for Misprint to start acting wacky, or PMSy as she knew her friend usually did. Misprint glanced at her for a fraction of a second, not even long enough to catch her eye, and gave a quick wince of a smile, before returning her sight to her shoes. She wasn't looking up at the priest.

Her curiosity getting the better of her, she glanced behind her briefly, but it was enough to tell her everything.

Misprint could hardly read the overhead in class. Shade had pin point vision. Just a quick look, and she could tell that it was Spot. He was there. And he was crying.

The priest closed his book. The service ended.

Before the teachers could get the classes attention to file back into the school, Shade edged out of the line and shot towards the school, coat and hair flying back in the wind, eyes determined. Misprint could see Spot had vanished.

"Where's she goin'?" Gemini whispered to Mondie. She shrugged. The two girls closed their coats to the biting winds and eagerly anticipated the return to the heated building.

Misprint saw the students were edging around her, as though her depression was contagious. Not many of them had taken the time to get to know Stephen. How many people was his death affecting? Her and who else? Did he have a family? When she died, who would remember him?

She closed her eyes to stop the burning tears from spilling onto her cheeks. She could feel Mush's hand on her shoulder, and tried, for somebody's sake, to smile. She was alright. She guessed.

"Well, well, well." A female voice drawled. Ice spun around, suspicious. He could make out the figure in the distance, walking towards him. "If it ain't one a' _Spot's_."

Her tone on the name of his leader made it obvious who she was and what she wanted. She was one of Slade's. And she had a stake.

His hand strayed to his own stake, tucked firmly in his belt, as he moved into his fighting stance. He said nothing. He was a silent fighter, preferring to let the others talk until they were blue in the face, or more worked up. He stayed calm.

The girl appeared, pulling her hair back into a pony tail. "This should be easy."

"What makes you think that?"

"You really think Spot's minions are that strong? You really think _Spot_ is that strong?" She laughed derisively. "You jus' wait. Stephen's already gone. As soon as we take care of that new goil of his…_Misprint_…he won't be able to get outta bed. Let alone lead his minions."

"Why are you telling me this?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. "Aren't you afraid I'll go back to Spot and _blab_?"

"Don't be stupid." She said, pulling out her stake. "Dust can't talk." 

She hissed, then flew towards him, stake raised.

Ice managed to toss her behind him, but she rolled to her feet right away and dove towards him again. He grabbed her by the shoulders and smashed her down onto the ground, then positioned the stake right above her heart. She growled, freed her arms, and raked her nails down the side of his face. His concetration momentarily thrown off, she punched him in the stomach, and kicked him off of her. Then she jumped to her feet and ran towards him.

Ice wasn't as good a fighter. It didn't take long for her to have him pinned against a wall, her stake right in front of his own chest.

"See you in hell." She smirked, before driving the stake right through his chest. He exploded into dust. Smiling in satisfaction, she twirled the stake in her fingers, before moving it backwards and shoving it into her pocket.

This war was getting too easy. The death of _Stephen dear_ had been unexpected, but, unbeknownst to Spot, it had only weakened him. And, like she had said, he'd be too depressed to do anything once they got a hold of Misprint. 

Their only problem was the fact that the school she went to harboured four slayers, a Wicca, a God Incarnate, and an elemental. Even if they didn't know of their powers yet, they certainly would find out, making the job a little harder for Slade's men.

But there was more than one way to skin a cat. If they didn't get to Spot through Misprint, they'd get to him another way. No one was immortal.

She felt the stake slide out of her pocket and spun around, aghast. A short, black haired green eyed girl in a black hoodie and jeans was standing there, twirling the stake idly in her fingers. Flanking her was a blonde boy with glasses, and a pale, black haired boy.

"A vampire carrying her own stake." She commented wryly. She raised her eyes to the demons. "Somebody has a death wish."

Before the vampire could even run, Chaos punched the stake through her chest, and dusted her, in the blink of an eye.

She sighed and dropped the stake on top of the pile of ashes. They had seen a couple vampire fights along the way, and she had to admit, things seemed to be getting a little more intense, in the "civil war" aspect of it. They still had yet to find out who was fighting against who, but hopefully, the information would come.

If only Misprint would say where Spot's lair was.

Chaos doubted if she remembered any more anyways. All of them were unaware of the fact that Misprint and Spot had been meeting in the dead of night. 

It was probably a good thing for Misprint.

Shade pulled her coat tighter around herself as she followed Spot through the deserted streets. Her uniform was far too cold for gallivanting around late at night through the snow. She shivered and wished in vain for a warmer coat. 

Spot paused briefly at the door to the Admiral's Arms. He was sure Shade would follow him into the club and he wasn't in the mood to deal with her getting herself in trouble she couldn't handle. With a resigned sigh he pushed open the heavy iron doors and stepped into the dimly lit club. Bass-heavy music pounded through the floor. Several vampires offered him quick words of greeting.

Shade stopped and looked over the door. The place stank of vampires and she was not eager to fling herself head long into untold danger with no back up. Still, there were questions she wanted answered and the only person who could help her was in there. Swallowing her better judgement and throwing caution to the wind, Shade stepped over the threshold 

Spot was no where to be seen. Shade swore violently and settled herself at the bar. She was painfully aware of how human she looked. Every fiber of her being was telling her to cause some fantastic pain to the vampires that lounged around the club.

"Hel_lo_ beautiful" a sickly smooth voice broke through her thoughts. Shade turned to see a some what handsome vampire smirking at her.

"Hi" She checked her instinct to slam her elbow into his nose "Can I help you?"

"Kerwyn," He smiled and extended his hand. She raised and eyebrow and turned back to the bar, her skin crawling as if expecting a knife between her shoulder blades "And you?"

"Uh, me?" She felt panic rising like bile in her throat. Stephan inexplicably came to mind "Stephan . .ie. Stephanie Carter"

"Well Stephanie" He smiled charmingly "Would you dance with me?"

"Uh" She faltered "Can't. Meeting someone" 

"Oh? And who might this host be?" Kerwyn sounded rather brassed off.

"Spot Conlon." She stood "Gotta go."

She practically ran from the club pausing outside to check her pace and the time; 5:30, three hours until she had to be back at the dorm.

"Where do you think you're going?" Kerwyn stood before her, eyes flashing dangerously.

She briefly contemplated holding onto her dignity but quickly discarded the idea. Kerwyn winced as a shrill scream rose from the slight girl before him. Not knowing quite why Kerwyn found himself on the pointy end of a stake, the girl on the ground near him.

"Hello _Stephanie._" Spot stood above her, a slight smirk on his pale lips, his hand out stretched to her. Cautiously she took his cold hand and let him pull her up. He pulled her flesh against him and Shade felt her heart race, remembering the months that followed the last time he was this close to her. She could almost feel the nuke in her blood and she found a slight twinge of craving.

"Thanks" Her voice shook slightly. He looked amused.

"For?"

"Saving me?" She bit her lips anxiously. Spot smirked and paused briefly before speaking.

"That's presumptuous" His eyes grazed her body. "You're shivering."

"Cold." She almost whispered. Spot looked way too amused by this little game of his. She felt her pride rising and giving her something tangible to feel other then the slight terror. 

"Why are you here, li'l junkie?" She rolled her eyes.

"Wanted to know why you were crying at the funeral." Shade said casually. "I mean come on, _you _killed him." Misprint had told no one about the initials that she had seen on Stephen's back. But a few other people had caught a glimpse of the body as it had been carried from the school, and word spread quick enough. 

"You think that?" He snarled "Whaddaya want, slayer?"

"I just thought you could use someone to talk to." She tried a different tactic, pushing away from him "Whatever works, Fang." With that, she turned and walked down the alley.

"Most wouldn't bother trying." He whispered, before clearing his throat and speaking up. "You know where to find me" He returned, as he watched the girl walk away from him. Shade had guts, that was something he admired. 

He wasn't surprised.

Jack couldn't find Shade anywhere.

Pure reason taught him that she would be out slaying. It was a natural Shade tendency, what with the pleasure she took in making buffed up demons writhe in pain. But he just wished she had told him, at least, just to make him feel slightly more loved.

He checked his watch, and realised he had to be done in about two hours. Shade was throwing a Christmas party in Gemini and Mondie's room, and he had promised he'd be there.

Of course, it was nice to have this freedom. He hadn't slain alone since Chaos joined. He had forgotten this wild feeling the thrill of the idea that no one was watching his back. He ran a stake through a vampire, and brushed the dust off his jacket.

Then again, this weather was pretty lousy to slay in. With a handful of snow down his boots, and his fingers feeling icy around the stake, he wasn't in good spirits.

Stephen. He sighed and did a quick check behind him. He remembered telling Dutchy that he had a gut feeling Stephen was somehow involved with vampires. Well, whether he had been or not, he certainly ended up that way in the end. The funeral today had still left him somehow morose.

There was no doubt that Spot killed Stephen. Misprint was obviously head over heels for Stephen, and Jack definitely knew how possessive Spot could be. It was a miracle he didn't finish Misprint off after Stephen. Maybe he was more attached to her than he had originally believed.

All the more reason to get rid of him as soon as possible.

It would hurt Misprint when he left, but she'd get over it. Could she really get too depressed about the lack of injuries each and every night?

He was still struggling with the absurd idea that she had been seeing the manipulative leech for all this time behind his back. When she first told them all. The feeling inside was frightening, this urge to hit something so hard it bled. And the closest thing related in any which way to Spot had been…well…Misprint.

Jack would rather kill himself or clean up Shade and Misprint's dorm, than hit someone defenceless. He felt like a bit of a hypocrite as he staked a vampire who was staring obliviously up at the skyline of New York, but vampires were different. They weren't people.

It was strange how things seemed to change without him so much as lifting a brow. Well, Mondie's cat ears _had_ been a bit of a jolt. When they had revealed them to Specs they had all been very smug about stumping the teenage genius. He had furrowed his brows and scratched his chin and said he'd look into it. And yes, Gemini's powers were a little coincidental with the fact that she attended the same school as the slayers. And finding Shade had definitely been a godsend, no doubt about it. For him, anyways. Specs had been a bit of a surprise. Only one thing had really remained consistent.

The pure hatred he harboured for Spot Conlon.

Misprint lay on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. She felt so incredibly empty, a shell of nothing. Of course, it wasn't the most comfortable thing to be. She had bruises and old scars up and down her legs, and her face looked like it had been through hell and back three times that day. Her lips were swollen and scarred, and her face had clouds of bruises surrounding her eyes and forehead.

She must look like Ms. America.

Groaning, she rolled over and buried her face in the pillow. Spot wouldn't dare come by. He had killed Stephen on the twenty third, and it was the twenty fourth. Christmas eve. The funeral of her best friend since Shade. That he murdered.

He wouldn't dare.

To her horror, she heard the window pane rattle, and slowly slide open. She curled into a tight ball, squeezing her eyes shut so hard that her skin began to ache.

"Go away, Spot." She yelled into her knee caps. There was the intake of breath, then a slight pause. The windows slid shut, and there were footsteps coming towards her. "No! Go away!" She cried, panicked. 

"Mis, it's just me!" A familiar voice protested. Misprint looked up, ashamed of the tears that had sprung to her eyes, and saw Shade, pale and shaking, her forehead glazed in sweat, still clad in her school uniform. 

"Oh…I thought you were…"

"Spot. I figured. You'd think he'd come around after killing Stephen?"

"Well…I dunno…" Misprint stalled, staring down at her overlapping fingers. Shade turned around on her heel and strode over to her closet. The close encounter with being drained had made her touchy and irritable, but for her mourning friend's sake, she was trying to hide it. And she didn't know how well she'd react to the next bit of news. She pulled off her tie and dropped it gratefully onto the bed, then opened the closet.

To Misprint's surprise, she pulled out a red dress with white velvet trimming at the bottom, like a Santa costume, but tighter, and a hell of a lot more feminine. She raised her eyebrows, ignoring the pain it sent her forehead into.

"And what's that for?" She asked, still irritable, but a little more warmer to her friend.

"Well…" Shade said slowly. "I'm…I'm having a…a Christmas party…"

"Tonight?" Misprint asked lightly.

"Tonight."

Misprint narrowed her eyes. Her heart was pounding sickly in her chest.

"After Stephen's funeral?"

"Yeah."

Misprint put down the pillow and tried to hide her irritation by stalking over to the dresser and grabbing her gel. Shade glanced over her shoulders as Misprint ran her fingers through her hair, a little more vicious than usual, her eyes watering in pain.

"Don't you think you should postpone it till tomorrow?" She asked lightly.

"We've been working at it for months. Gem, and…and Mondie and I." Shade mumbled, brushing her hair behind her ears. Misprint sent a cerulean glare over her shoulder.

"So you're having a party the day of Stephen's funeral."

"What, you talk like we planned it that way!" Shade protested, yanking off her blouse and pulling on a white tank top. 

"Shade…" Misprint turned around, and Shade was startled to see tears in her eyes. "Stephen is _dead_. You're celebrating. What's _wrong_ with this picture?"

"We didn't know Stephen." Shade replied edgily, feeling a bubble of anger rise in her throat. "_You_ knew Stephen. You knew him better than you knew _me._" Angrily tilting her chin, she watched as Misprint almost threw the bottle back onto the dresser and turn to her, her face twisted in fury.

"That doesn't change the fact that you're having a _party_."

"Millions of people die every day." Shade said levelly. "And I don't see _you_ preaching against us having fun for _them_."

"But this was me _best friend_." Misprint said slowly. "He helped me through…"

"Yeah. You always went to _him_." Shade said bitterly, pulling on her jeans. Misprint raised her eyebrows.

"You were always out slaying. And you would've told Jack..."

"And you would be off a lot worse?" Shade snapped, before yanking a garbage bag of presents out from the closet. "You know what?" She said finally. "You were always with him. Every night. I always wanted to spend more time with you. You know, like old times. I'm glad he's gone." She said defiantly.

Misprint scowled at her so ferociously, she felt like she would do something spectacular, like set something on fire, or burn Shade to a crisp. A pile of ashes on the ground. With an angry growl, she turned, wrenched the door open, and then left, slamming it behind her.

Shade jumped as the knob crunched away from the door and flew across to the other side of the room.

Spot found it vaguely amusing that Shade was frightened of him. Oh, the girl was good at masking it, but Spot could smell it all over her. 

He had thought she was going to kill him then and there. Dark alley, none of his minions ready to save his ass if need be. Only the two of them. And turns out that she just wanted to talk.

He let out a derisive laugh. He didn't even know why he hadn't killed her when she suggested that. He wasn't the softy she was making him out to be.

And instead, he had thanked her.

He finished draining a young girl and let her drop to the ground, limp as a sack of cloth. He wouldn't mind letting Shade take care of his problems. He was having too many as it was.

He heard a sound and glanced up, wary and alert. Even though he was king of vampires, he had occasionally been caught by surprise. Some of Slades men had come close to finishing him off. You could never be too careful.

But, to his amusement, it wasn't one of Slades. Jack walked by his alley, stake clutched in hand, staring ahead. Spot smirked. Maybe there was time for a little reunion before he headed back to the lair. 


	16. sixteen

****

Sixteen

Misprint sat huddled on the roof. Her legs were pressed tight to her chest, and her face was tearless, but wracked with pain.

Strictly speaking, students weren't allowed to set foot on the rooftop. Apparently there had been some tragedy twenty years ago, when some ungodly little Catholic consumed a bottle of alcohol and toppled off the roof to his death. That's why the regulation had been imposed. And she supposed it was a good thing, considering they had Shade and Misprint running around the school, completely crazy.

Well, at least Shade. To a certain extent.

Misprint had lost that spark she had that allowed her to do those crazy things. She hadn't worn rainbow socks in what seemed like forever, and spiking her hair just didn't seem that big a deal any more. She didn't care what she looked like, didn't care what people thought, only wallowed in this pool of self pity and depression, a spiral that sucked her downwards.

__

Spot. She thought suddenly, with a venom coursing through her veins that she had never felt before. _Stay away from me. I don't care where you are, or what you're planning. But stay the hell away from me._

"Hey kid." 

The words were cold, like some sinister demon bent on someone's downfall. Jack didn't know how right he was in his assumptions. He spun around, stake raised, and his stomach contracted horribly as his hazel eyes met the sea green ones.

"Conlon." He murmured through gritted teeth. Spot eyed the stake with the air of someone confronting a very large, very intimidating animal. 

"I just came to talk." Spot said, his eyes trained on the weapon. Jack raised his eyebrows, cynical.

"To talk?"

"To talk." Spot confirmed, his hand shooting out and, before Jack could pull away, his fingers wrapping around the other end of the stake. Taking advantage of Jack being caught unawares, for once, he twisted the stake out of his hand and threw it behind him. Jack winced as a few splinters dug into his hand, and quickly hid the pain. But Spot could smell it. However he, for once, chose not to comment. He wouldn't have got very far, anyways. The minute Jack realised he was defenceless, his fist shot forwards and hit Spot square in the face.

Spot moved to strike back, but stilled himself just in time, sternly reminding his animal instincts that he couldn't hurt the boy. Shade, for one, would have his ass. He wasn't an idiot. When his messengers came back with the news of his men being found, the meat burned right off their bones, he knew enough not to try and mess with her. And if he hurt Jack, he wouldn't be all that better off in Misprint's books at all.

Not that he was exactly in the top ten anyways.

But his reason was clear. He had to get the word to Misprint. She was in danger. And he knew she'd tear him apart if he set foot in the dorm. This was the only way to do it without finding Shade who was, no doubt, immersed in her little Christmas Party.

"Whassa matter?" Jack spat, hitting him again. Spot's head snapped to the side, a lock of hair falling over his cheek bone. "Ain'tcha gonna take a swing at me?"

"I already told you why I was here." Spot said through gritted teeth, tasting some of his own blood in his mouth.

"Somehow, I don't believe you." Jack replied, pulling back a fist to hit him again. But as he swung forwards, Spot reached out and wrapped his hand in his own long fingers.

"You gotta tell Misprint something for me." He said, his eyes trained on Jack's, seeking trust, at least temporary. Jack wrinkled his nose.

"What? That you won't be able to meet her tomorrow night?"

"Jack…"

"That you hope she likes it rough?"

"_Jack_…"

"Or maybe you're in the market for a new switch blade?" 

Spot had to curl his fingers into fists to stop from knocking the boy out then and there.

"No." He hissed. "She's in danger."

"Only from you."

"Not from…" He was about to contradict him, when he paused, remembering the way she had screamed when he had dug the knife into her lower back a few nights ago. The hesitation was long enough for Jack to swerve his free hand forwards and grab onto Spot's neck.

Spot had taken enough. It was hard enough trying to get the slayer to understand without resorting to violence, but his vampiric instincts were going crazy with not being able to hit back. He curled his fists so hard that the fingernails bit into the skin and caused small crescents of cold blood to pool along his palm.

"I said I wanted to _talk…_" He whispered, feeling his throat close as Jack squeezed his hand shut. Jack raised his eyebrows carelessly.

"Then that's a stupid way to die, Conlon." He shrugged. He pulled his fist back a final time. Spot snapped, lifted his leg and shot it into Jack's stomach, making him loosen his grip and bend over, clutching his middle.

Jack's vision swam. He hadn't been expecting that. Spot was one of the most evil vampires in history, why did Jack keep underestimating his ability to cheat? Why did he always think he was better than that? He gulped in a huge breath of air and tried to stop the horrible pain in his stomach, but could only look up as Spot swung one of his fists down to break his neck.

Moving quickly, he dove forwards and reached his hand out. His fingers clenched around something hard and circular…the stake! He felt the power radiate in his hand, and flipped onto his back just as Spot dove onto him.

Spot caught sight of the weapon in his hand, and grabbed it just as he fell on top of the slayer, breathing a gasp of relief. If he hadn't seen it, he wouldn't be there any more. A pile of ashes. He scowled, and tried to twist it out of his enemy's hand again, but Jack's grip was tight, and his eyes determined.

"Stay away from Misprint." Jack hissed. Spot growled, and wrapped his hand around Jack's throat. He didn't understand. He didn't understand why Spot had to keep going to Misprint, or why things had never changed. Even though he wanted them to. But it was impossible to explain. How do you explain vampiric urges to a mortal?

"You gotta tell her." Spot tried again. The threat of Slade and his minions had been growing constantly in his mind, and when he had taken care of Stephen, it had been enough to clue him in that Misprint was in danger. His insides were still blazed with hurt whenever he thought of what he'd done, but it was too late to turn back time.

"Tell her what?"

"About Slade!" Spot said, putting pressure on his hand, causing Jack to go pale and choke, gasping for air. "Tell her, will ya?"

Jack, however, had gone silent at the mention of the name. He didn't know if Spot was aware the slayers were on top of their war, and wasn't eager to reveal any information about Dutchy, Bumlets, or even Chaos's knowledge on such matters. But Spot's hand on his throat was very demanding, not tomention just the slightest bit threatening. However, his lips remained firmly shut. "Tell her!" Spot yelled. "You gotta! For her own safety!"

"Tell her yourself." Jack spat. "You see each other often enough!"

"For _once_ in your _life_ swallow your fucking pride!" Spot hissed, drawing his face closer. "God…do you _want_ her dead or something?"

He noticed, with a slight feeling of satisfaction, that Jack's face had gone an ashen grey. Even though no words of a positive nature were going to travel through his lips, he wouldn't have been able to do so anyways. He felt his throat throb under Spot's fingers, and tried to call him off, but the words got stuck before they reached his mouth.

"You don't gotta talk." Spot smirked, enjoying the suffering his enemy was going through. "Just nod. Yes, or no?" 

Jack tried to shake him off, but the vampire was too strong. Finally, he shut his eyes and nodded "yes". He'd tell her. Just let go.

Spot's smirk elevated into a grin and he removed his hand. Jack inhaled a deep gulp of air, and the flesh colour slowly returned to his face, along with a red tinge in his cheek bones. 

"Now listen." Spot said quickly, but before he could finish, Jack sat up and knocked his head into his.

Spot fell backwards in a blinding flash of pain and stumbled onto the concrete. Jack tightened the stake in his hands, dove forwards, and plunged it into Spot's flesh.

Spot could barely believe it when it first happened. A slow tingling pain in his shoulder took place, like it had been hit with a dart, or a pin. Suddenly, without warning, it erupted into a fire that exploded around the stake, as a cool current of blood flowed from the wound and drenched his shirt. He cried out, throwing his head back, catching a glimpse of the evening stars before his head hit the pavement and he all but blacked out.

What felt like hours later, he opened his eyes. It hadn't been a long time, two seconds at the most. He glanced down at the stake, imbedded in his shoulder, when he realised, with a surge of panicky relief, he was alive.

It hadn't touched his heart.

He ripped it out from his flesh and tossed it across the street, hearing something clatter. Jack was looking livid with rage. What was he mad about? He was the one who had gone back on the truce. He wasn't the one who had almost died.

Spot glanced down and realised that he was decorating the pavement. It was a dark muddy brown colour, the colour of blood in the gloom of evening. He could feel the energy seeping out of him, like water from a punctured tea cup. He groaned and plastered his hand against the wound, feeling the stolen blood immerse his fingers and trickle down his arm.

"That's it." Jack snapped, swooping down and pinning the boy. He couldn't believe it. For ten years he had been tracking Spot, and had been trying to dust him. After all this time, he finally thought he had, and the job was over. He had felt a huge weight lift from his shoulders as his enemy fell backwards onto the pavement.

Only to find out that his aim needed improvement.

He reached into his pocket, and his fingers felt the cool metal of the cross that he always carried around with him, even though he wasn't the most devout of Catholics. It came in handy for other purposes.

"Jackie…wait…" Spot groaned, feeling the stars spin over top of him. He needed blood, and he needed it right away. "Just tell her that Slade is…"

"I ain't your messenger boy." Jack said coolly, fingering the cross and then shifting his eyes to Spot's face. With a final smirk of farewell, he shoved it forwards towards his forehead.

It hit the pavement.

Jack furrowed his brows and realised he was sitting on cobblestone. He felt something erupt in his brain and was about to spin around when his head was wrenched aside and two fangs sunken deep into his neck.

He cried out, his scream echoing up and down the alley way as they carved deeper into his flesh, releasing the blood from its hold. Spot's one hand was on Jack's forehead, the other on his shoulder, stretching his neck open. He had promised not to hurt Jack in their "reunion", but he was so thirsty. He hadn't planned on the sudden loss of blood on his part, nor the fight, even though he should have.

But things just turned out that way.

__

Stop, something whispered in his head, as Jack stiffened, realising with a sinking despair, he was too drained to fight back. _You're taking too much out of him_. But Spot didn't care. Jack deserved it. He had it coming for ten years.

Jack felt his veins empty and was amazed he could still feel. Maybe it was the slayer in him that was still fighting for life, but the boy had given up long ago. He slowly sank forwards, Spot still feeding off his neck, his eyes flickering open and closed.

He hadn't done it. His entire mission, the entire reason he had accepted the position of slayer, the entire ten years...he had lost. Spot won.

The vampire suddenly wrenched his head away with a cry and let Jack flop forwards onto the pavement, nothing more than a limp doll with vague traces of life still lingering among the corners of his mind. He wiped the stains from his lips with the back of his arm and let out a breath of relief. The wound near his shoulder was healing quickly, and he found himself bent over, hands on knees, trying to control the sudden power he had just obtained.

He had forgotten what the blood of a slayer tasted like. He raised his head, lips parted slightly and still stained, staring at Jack, face first on the cobblestone.

"See you 'round, kid." He whispered, the blood still wet on his lips. Realising what he had just done, he turned and stumbled away, feeling like the ground was trying to pull him downwards, trying to swallow him up as easily as he had swallowed Jack's life.

The words he had just heard reverberated in his mind, the words that had caused him to suddenly stop drinking, to try and leave Jack with whatever life he had left. If there was any. _Spot. Stay away from me. I don't care where you are, or what you're planning. But stay the hell away from me. _Misprint. He shook his head and continued walking away.

"Spot." The word came out as a croak, almost inaudible. Spot twisted his head around and saw Jack slowly, his body aching, roll himself over and lift his head slightly. The wound on his neck shone, almost glowed, in the pale moonlight. "Wait…"

Spot shook his head and turned around, but the image hit him so hard he almost fell. Hazel eyes. Hazel eyes in the moonlight…staring, filled with tears. They shifted to smaller ones, that held the colour of dried blood in the irises, before disappearing completely.

He brushed the hair off his face and turned around, stalking back towards where Jack was laying, almost dead, face raised to the moonlight. He dropped to his knees beside him and raised his wrist to his own mouth, where he slashed a long gash in it with his tooth. He sucked the blood off the fang. This was a mistake. He swore out loud and held his wrist to Jacks mouth.

"You better pay me back for this, Jack." He murmured, gritting his teeth.

He felt the blood leave his wrist, and slowly surrendered himself to what he knew was going to be hell.

"She's dead?" Slade snapped. "Yvonne is dead? She was one of our best fighters!"

"Not no more." Rip said evenly, enjoying the fact that for once, his master was still fighting to regain control of the hints of feelings that vampires still possessed, while he had already mastered his own. "Ice took care of her."

"One of Spots?" Slade asked bitterly, dearly wishing he could plant a stake in his enemies heart right there and then.

"It wasn't just some random one offa the street." Rip replied, hands shoved in pockets. Slade stared at the stake he held in his hands and clenched it so hard he felt as though he could turn it into sawdust simple with the power of his hand and hatred.

"Get over to the school." He hissed through pointed teeth. "Or send someone else. Just get rid of Misprint." 

No matter how loud the music blared, no one outside of their own dorm could hear it.

That's what Specs had told Shade, after he had borrowed some of Gemini's powers to cast a simple spell, and she had loved it. The idea of complete freedom where volume was concerned was a likeable one indeed, and she enjoyed the fact that Mrs. Mayen couldn't hear anything suspicious.

The whole "gang" was there. Chaos was looking a little out of the ordinary in a white tank top with the letters "NYC" scrolled on, instead of the usual blackblackblack. Blink and Mush were present, but then again, how could they not be? Mush and Mondie where dancing freely in the middle of the dorm, while Blink was collapsed in the bean bag chair, Gemini leaning against his chest, his arms wrapped around her. Specs and Dutchy were having a quiet (and it had to be quite inconspicuous, considering Racetrack didn't know about vampires) conversation on slaying tactics, while Bumlets chatted easily with Chaos, as though they were brother and sister, as they wanted most to believe. Racetrack was sitting across the room from Chaos, a pop can in his hand, wishing that he was Bumlets, whom she seemed so free with. Shade had long since abandoned the tank top and jeans she had used to organise things with, and had donned the crazy Santa Claus dress. 

The only two that were missing were Misprint and Jack. Misprint had obviously (and quite loudly) excused herself from the festivities, but where she was, no one knew. It was safe to assume that she didn't want to spend time in her own dorm, in case Spot would drop by, but where else she would go, no one was quite sure.

Jack was easy to guess. Out slaying. He was careful about his job, even though he resented authority, because it was the only thing that mattered to him. 

Shade did wish that he would take a _little_ time off. For heavens sakes, it was Christmas. And the fact that Gemini and Blink were exchanging soft kisses, and Mondie and Mush were just being too cute for words, was rather depressing.

Racetrack raised his gaze from the top of the coke can long enough to glance up at Chaos, who was barely looking his way. Feeling his gaze with extremely sharpened senses, her green eyes flicked over and burned into his coffee coloured ones. He grinned slightly, then quickly looked away. There was no sense in even trying, the fact that he was three or four years older did not bode well with the word "Relationship."

Nevertheless, acting before his brain could rebel, as Bumlets got up to join Specs and Dutchy, he went and discreetly took his place.

Chaos glanced over at him again, and her eyes flashed slight panic. But she remained as cool as ever. She leaned back, suddenly aware that her tank top was much too revealing. In truth of all truths, it wasn't in the slightest, but it was a stretch from the usual tee shirts. But Shade had to go and insist that she dress up.

This was dressing up.

It was no secret that Racetrack had a crush on her. Her feelings remained her own, but she felt uncomfortable whenever he was near in the awkward, teenage way she hated.

"Heya Chaos." Racetrack submitted, making an effort to sound normal, but failing miserably as his voice came out too enthusiastic. She gave him a glance that made him want to shrivel inside himself.

"Hi Race." She said shortly, returning her gaze to Mondie and Mush. Mondie's hair band was firm in place, considering Racetrack had yet to be let on to the abnormalities his friends concealed.

"You gonna dance?" Racetrack asked hopefully. She shook her head, and took a long swig of rootbeer.

"Of course not." She said shortly, afraid to meet his eyes. "You know me."

"Yeah. I guess." He shrugged. Usually Racetrack was able to come up with something funny in a few seconds, but his mind was completely blank now. He struggled, but luckily Shade interrupted the awkward conversation.

"Presents!" She declared, unceremoniously dragging a large undecorated garbage bag out of the closet. Mondie, Mush, Blink, and Gemini let out loud cheers of glee, while the slayers allowed a smirk, bar Chaos, who looked, at least, a little happier about the current situation. Specs adjusted his glasses and reluctantly joined the quickly forming circle, plopping down, cross legged, next to Racetrack, who was definitely worse for money.

Shade was the only one who had gone out of the way to get presents. The rest had formed good intentions, but had never exactly manifested them considering the way the holiday season was quickly turning out. 

She did a quick spin in the center of the circle, then plunged a hand into the bag. With a grin, she pulled out the first one and read the label. 

"Mondie!" She grinned. Mondie grinned and clapped her hands. None expected Shade to be serious about this, chances were the presents would be something they'd never use in the future. Shade tossed a box wrapped in cheap brown paper (as all the others were) to her friend, who grabbed it, then quickly straightened her hair band, throwing an edgy glance over at Racetrack, who raised an eyebrow at the behaviour. Then, she quickly tore a line down the center, ripping it open. Mush raised his eyes. Her fingernails had gotten sharp and were resembling claws in a very humanesque manner. He swallowed nervously and straightened his collar.

She pushed the box open, let her eyes adjust to what was inside, then suddenly fell backwards, bursting out in laughter. Mush furrowed his brows and leaned over, then let out a grin. Shade was smiling rather evilly.

"What is it?" Gemini asked impatiently, poking Mush in the side. Still wearing the lopsided grin, he pulled out a light pink coloured tank top depicting a girl with long brown hair, a delicately turned chin, bright blue eyes, with whiskers and pink cat ears. Inscribed over her head in long curly writing were the words "Sex Kitten."

"Shade!" Blink groaned, as Gemini let out a giggle. Chaos raised an eyebrow while Dutchy, Bumlets, Racetrack, and Specs smiled in spite of themselves.

Mondie hastily fixed her hair band and reappeared in sight, still giggling giddily. Mush handed her the tank top and she pulled it on over her long black shirt.

"A'right, quiet down! Quiet down!" Shade yelled, reaching back into the bag. Her fingers wrapped around another, and she yanked it out. The label read "Dutchy and Bumlets."

"You two." She smirked, tossing it to Bumlets who deftly caught it. He shrugged, then pulled it open.

Lying there were two exquisitely carved stakes, sharpened to a pencil point, shining. One had "B" carved into it, and the other "D", along with crescent moons at the end. 

"Cool!" Dutchy nodded, picking it up and gripping it in his hands.

"What are those?" Racetrack asked, raising an eyebrow. "Stakes or something?"

"Yeah. We play vampire hunter." Bumlets grinned as he and Dutchy shared a knowing look. To dissolve the tension, Shade quickly found another present.

"This one's for Blink." She said, her eyes lighting up in a way that clearly meant no good. Blink reluctantly disentangled Gemini from his arms so he could catch the present as Shade tossed it to him. Gemini glanced up and suddenly realised she had a present coming too. She ripped it open and, eyes lighting up, pulled up a silver pentagram on a chain.

"It's beautiful!" She exclaimed giddily, tossing the paper aside. Specs smirked in spite of himself, as he caught sight of dark purple amethysts positioned in every point.

"It's to help you with your studies." Shade explained, as Gemini slid over her head and Blink opened his own present. His brows furrowed in perplexity as he realised what was inside.

"This ain't for _me,_ is it?"

"In a way." Shade said mysteriously. Blink gave her a confused look, then pulled it out. A long, and rather skimpy, it must be said, piece of lingerie unfolded and hung from between his fingertips.

"It's lingerie." Blink said in confusion. Gemini glanced over and raised her eyebrows as her eyes caught on the tag.

"In _my_ size!" She said accusingly to Shade, who was already digging back into the bag. 

"Enjoy!" she said quickly, pulling out two more. One she tossed to Specs, who caught it deftly, and the other to Mush.

Specs pulled off the brown paper revealing a familiar yellow cover. He rolled his eyes and shot her glare as the cover adjusted.

__

Dating for Dummies.

Shade was avoiding his eyes as she looked over at Mush. He opened his own present, then shut his eyes in what was either bliss or acute mortification.

Mondie leaned over and then flushed. 

"Shade!" She accused, as she saw exactly what it was.

"Yes?" 

"That's…"

"Tasty?"

"Chocolate body paint!" Mush exclaimed, pulling out a silkily decorated bottle. Shade nodded happily. Mondie groaned and shut her eyes, while Mush tried to hide an amused grin, even though his face was bright red.

There were four packages left, and Chaos found herself a little anxious as Shade tossed her one. She wasn't eager to make a fool of herself, and hoped Shade remembered how quickly she could blow up.

She opened it, kind of eager, hoping it would be a stake like Dutchy's or Bumlets, which were awesome, to say the least. But as the paper came off, she realised, with a rather disgusted feeling inside of her, it was far from such a thing.

It was an adorably purple teddy bear.

She raised an eyebrow.

"I _really_ need one of these." She said, raising her eyes to Shade, who rolled her own dark ones.

"Look on the back." She instructed. Chaos raised both her eyebrows, then flipped it over, and her face visibly brightened as she saw what was sewn sloppily onto the back. She ripped it off, and studied it in her hand.

It was an exquisitely carved cross, silver, with a pentigram in the center, the points stretching out into intricate, beautiful designs all up and down the branches. At the very top, there was an engraved "C". Chaos tested the weight in her hands, and looked up with a faint twitch of her lips.

"Thanks."

"No problem." She shrugged. She reached in and pulled out the next package. "Jack" was written on it in her slanted script.

Her face fell slightly. In the humour of the past few minutes, she had forgotten that he wasn't present. Now it kind of hurt that he was absent. Before she could let it get to her, she shoved it back into the bag and pulled out the next one, with a sudden devilish grin. "Now. Racetrack's present."

"Great. What is it?" Racetrack rolled his eyes. "A swim suit calender?"

"I was thinking of that at first." Shade admitted, with a slight grin as Racetrack gazed at her cynically. "But I thought you might like this better." She tossed the package to him.

He caught it. It was definitely the smallest of all of them. He gave her an inquiring look, but her expression didn't shift, she made a gesture to open it up and get it over with.

She thought of Misprints present sitting at the bottom, along with Jacks. Hurriedly, she tossed them aside.

Racetrack slowly pulled off the wrapping, and realised, his cheeks flaming slightly, it was something lacy. And black. He rolled his eyes as he pulled out a lacy bra.

"Real funny Shade." He said, as everyone laughed a little. Chaos, however, was staring at Shade as though she had just murdered her friends. She turned her gaze to the bra, and, it must be said, her cheeks flamed. Maybe with embarrassment, maybe with anger, maybe with some deadly combination of both.

"That's mine!" She yelled. Racetrack's eyes widened, and he meant to drop it on the floor, but he was frozen as she stalked towards him and ripped it from his hand. She turned to Shade and glared. "What the hell is that all about?"

"It was just a joke, Chaos."

"I don't believe this!" She growled. She stuffed the bra into her jeans pocket and stormed out of the room.

Chaos's face burned as she slammed the door behind her and pressed her forehead against the cool wood. She was too angry to consider being stealthy, and too embarrassed to show her face again.

She could understand how some might find that funny. But she didn't. She felt her anger boil up inside of her and stalked off to her room to get a stake. She had to go kill something.

"You sure this is it?" Edge asked, staring up at the imposing brick monument. He was always a little tense whenever they entered the vicinity of a Catholic Building. Rex turned and gave him a look.

"I'm sure. You too scared to go in?"

"I just have this bad feeling." Edge muttered under his breath. He was one of Slade's weaker minions, and Rex was resigned to the fact that Rip had made him bring the half fledgling along. He was much too, well, edgy for Rex's comfort. But who was he to disagree with Rip?

Besides, their assignment was easy enough. Misprint, so they heard, was weak. All Spot's "pets" were weak. It was just a fact, just the way things worked. Probably had no experience with vampires besides the sexual kind, which might not have been a bad thing, Rex realised with a grin. But they had strict orders. No funny business. Just kill her. Brutally. Make it look horrible. Then get the hell back to the lair before Spot unleashes all hell.

The old woman at the desk was easy enough to slip past. Her senses were dulled by age and severity, and by sneaking past the desk with foot falls so quiet not even they themselves could sense them, they were in.

Edge was fiddling with the razor in his pocket nervously, as Rex rolled his eyes and led the way. They could sense her presence up on the roof, and couldn't afford to delay as they slowly slipped up the stair case.

Misprint was unaware of such hostility. The only thing on her mind was Stephen. She had never fallen in love with him, as many of the girls in her classes predicted, but she had loved him, nonetheless. He had even replaced Shade, as she had always gone to him so he could heal her, and talk.

And now he was gone.

Spot, too, was a current topic. She thought of his cool blue eyes and a surge of hatred lit her veins.

Gemini's amethysts began to glow.

She suddenly looked up and she and Specs shared a knowing look. Before anyone could comment on the sudden new qualities of her necklace, she disengaged herself from Blinks arms and, regretfully his kisses, and jumped up. Moving quickly, she cut across the floor, right through Mondie and Mush who were trying to get a dance going again, and out the door, snapping it behind her with a slam.

The rest of the teenagers looked up with alarm. Specs was flipping through the "Dating for Dummy's" book, mostly to amuse Shade.

"She'll be back." He said knowingly. 

Gemini's powers were undeniable. True, Specs had taken away her immediate powers, the powers that allowed things to occur the minute she said them, or even thought of them. 

But there was true powers in her blood that not even he could take away. No one could take them away. She had possessed them all her life, and Winter Solstice had only strengthened them.

She had felt this particular surge of hatred from above her, and suddenly there was an image in her mind of Misprint, sitting cold and alone, staring out at the city, full of malevolence. She hadn't even bothered to question why she was there.

She had just taken off.

She and Misprint had never got to know each other all that well, so it seemed rather strange to her that she was the one up to comfort her, instead of Shade. But it seemed Shade had been edgy at the mention of Misprint that night, and reluctant to talk about her.

The job fell to Gemini.

She took to the stairs.

Chaos turned the corner and literally ran into a pair of vampires.

She nearly fell backwards but regained her balance when she saw them, and realised immediately what they were. She was built with an automatic slaying sense, and she could tell when someone wasn't exactly _human_.

One of them had dark brown hair and skin the colour of roasted marshmallows. An odd comparison for a vampire, but accurate. The other was pale and slant eyed, fiddling in his partners wake.

"Vampires." She said wisely, throwing in a tiny twitch of her lips. "My night just got better."

Rex furrowed his brows. This girl was acting strange. She obviously knew more than a run of the mill Catholic school girl did. And at the last comment, he knew enough.

Figures they'd get sent to murder a girl who schooled with a slayer.

Acting quickly, he summoned his energy and disappeared. Chaos raised her eyebrows, then shrugged. Before Edge could collect his wits quick enough to disappear as well, Chaos had punched the stake through his heart, and had dusted him.

"One down." She shrugged. She turned and tried to rationalise her thought, wondering where the other one could be. 


	17. seventeen

****

Seventeen

Misprint jumped when the door opened and shifted around, eyes wide with terror, but relaxed slightly when she saw it was Gemini. The girl was panting slightly, she had just run up a few flights of stairs without stopping, and her curls were hanging limply. She brushed them from her face and tried a smile.

"Oh. Hey." Misprint breathed, pressing a hand to her chest. "You scared me."

"Sorry." Gemini apologised, shutting the door behind her. The pendant at her neck was still glowing, something that did not escape Misprint in the slightest. She furrowed her brows together.

"Nice necklace."

"It's a pendant. Shade gave it to me." She said. Misprint's eyes hardened at the sound of the girl she had just had a fight with, but bit her lip. She wasn't going to spoil Gemini's night, not if she could help it.

"It's nice." She repeated pointlessly. 

"Why weren't you at the party?" Gemini said, sitting down next to her. Misprint sighed and turned her gaze back to the city. Gemini had a very acute, no-beating-around-the-bush way of getting at things, but she wished she had allowed a little insipid small talk for now. Misprint sighed and realised, with a grim smile, Gemini's night was going to be spoiled.

In truth of all truths, Misprint hated the sympathy she was getting. She wanted to be like the girl she was before she met Spot, but it felt as though that girl had died and was rotting inside of her. Nevertheless, she swiped at her eyes, and turned to Gemini with something that resembled a smile.

"Jus'…not ready. You know?"

"I know." Gemini said slowly.

"I don't think it's fair that the party is on the day of Stephen's funeral." Misprint suddenly burst out, her anger at Shade spilling over. "I mean, how are we mourning?"

"Misprint, we aint'…"

"Celebrating his death. I know, I know.." She said. "But we aren't exactly being respectful, either."

"No offence, Mis, but we didn't know him all that well." She said. "It was you that…well, I know you were in love with him…" Misprint turned and stared out at the horizon of the city. _We didn't know him all that well._ It was at that moment she realized. She wasn't one of them. No matter how much she tried, she was different now.

"_Loved_ him." She corrected. "There's a difference."

"_Loved_ him, then." Gemini said, not believing a word of it all the same. She had no doubts about the two crazy over each other, and she knew the whole school thought the same. "But sometimes things like this happen."

"No. _No they don't. _It's not natural!" Misprint burst out. "It's just not natural for a girl to go over to a guys dorm and find him on the floor with his throat torn out!"

"But it happened." Gemini stuck to her reasons. "And as much as…"

"You don't know what you're talking about." Misprint spat, standing and making for the door. Gemini stood too, and reached out to stop her friend.

"Mis!" She pleaded. "Just…lemme finish."

"It's like if Mondie died." Misprint turned around. "Pretend you came home and Mondie was lying on the floor with her throat torn out. Or Blink."

The last word hit Gemini, and she stopped, dead in her tracks, mouth agape. Misprint stood there, chin raised savagely. The witch tried to regain her wits.

"Then pretend." Misprint said slowly, her voice shaking with sobs. "That on the day of his funeral, your friends threw a party…"

"Misprint, don't be like that!" Gemini pleaded, going towards her. Misprint held up her hand.

"Don't you get it?" She yelled, her voice echoing across the courtyards. "Stephen is _dead_."

The minute she said the last word, Gemini could have fallen over backwards with surprise.

From all five of her fingers shot a stream of fire that pooled into the palm of her hand. Misprint wasn't even surprised, she just held her palm up, the fire burning brighter than any other flame the both of them had ever seen. Gemini stared at it, feeling her insides erupt in surprise.

It was obvious the fire was in her palm. But deep in her, she could sense fire as well. A fire much stronger, but caged. Begging to be released.

"Mis…" She whispered, eyes wide. "Mis…you're a…"

The door cracked open and a dark figure hurtled towards Misprint. Misprint spun around and her mouth dropped open in the effigy of surprise, as the figures own lips parted revealing to long, white fangs, cruelly pointed.

Gemini screamed and slapped two hands up against her mouth, her eyes widening painfully, but as the vampire reached Misprint, something extraordinary happened. The flames in her hand erupted into a single stream of bright red, ember hot fire that shot out and spiralled around the demon and held him there. Then, with a slight twitch of her fingers, the flames all simultaneously contracted and incinerated the vampire in a flash.

There was nothing left but a pile of dust on the top of the roof.

Misprint's eyes rolled up in her head and she fell into a dead faint. 

The darkness of the night was impenetrable in the alley. Spot had left Jack there instead of out in the open street. 

Jack's eyes shot open. The stars tilted and blurred above him. The only words he could hear in his mind were ones that Spot had whispered before he had grabbed his wrist and drank until he passed out_._

Spot had just saved his life.

Or his unlife.

He swore and pushed the thought from his head. He could feel no blood in him, no inner warmth, yet he wasn't cold. He was just…neutral, even though the snow had soaked through his sweat shirt and jeans, and his eyes were almost frosted closed. Had there been tears?

He sincerely hoped not.

He groaned and pressed a hand to his temple, surprised to find no pulse, and suddenly, the pit of his stomach dropped.

__

I ain't a vampire, he thought, his brain pulsing with anger. _It ain't possible. It ain't! _

He brushed the hair back from his face and pulled the hood up, hoping against hope he wouldn't run into anyone he knew. Even though he doubted they'd be out at five in the morning. Usually, he would have wanted to have gone right to his bed and stayed there till midnight, but he found he didn't want to go to sleep.

Didn't need to go to sleep.

He took off running, even though he had just had his blood drained out of him and replaced with that of a vampire, and his head was still feeling as though it was slowly being turned inside out. But he ran faster than he had ever run in his entire life.

Dutchy and Bumlets were the first to leave, bar Chaos and Gemini. Dutchy glanced over at Shade and, with a wink, signified that they wouldn't be going back to their dorms. It was midnight, but the night was still fresh in their minds, and no doubt, the vampires. Shade nodded quickly, trying not to let too much on. Racetrack, even though he was rather sullen about the whole affair with Chaos, was as sharp as a knife, even if the knife had been used an excessive amount of times. 

Chaos never returned. She spent a few more hours scouring the school, looking high and low, but there was no evidence of him anywhere. Her eyes were sharp for blood trails or bodies, ears perked for screams or cheap lines, but there was nothing. He must have split when he realised she was a slayer.

She had that effect on most vampires.

Mush and Mondie had opted for a late night stroll around the grounds, but Shade had hastily deterred them. She couldn't mention the obvious dangers in Racetrack's presence, so had tried to get around at the love sick couple in a vaguer way.

"No. There might be…er…dangerous people." She had said, her eyes going wide and her hands making nebulous circles. Mondie rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. A'right." She and Mush shared a last kiss before he left out the window to go back to his dorm, Blink following a little morosely. Gemini's ill timed departure had weighed down on him slightly, and to say that he was in as high spirits as Mush would be unfair.

Specs had been polishing his namesake for the past departures, but slid them on and adjusted the baseball cap he had worn to the party. He had then given a little salute to Shade, and was about to make somewhat of a clumsy exit out the window, when the door burst open.

Gemini was standing there, her curls out of their formation, finely lined eyes wide with terror.

"Gemini!" Shade exclaimed, stopping Specs in his tracks. He twisted his head around and quickly jumped down. "You look scared half to death!" 

"It's Misprint!" She explained. Shade would have hardened at the words, but Gemini's tone clearly meant danger. Even though, they had just had an argument, Shade would never want Misprint harmed. "She's up on the roof, and she…"

"Fire?" Specs suddenly asked, his eyes blazing. Gemini choked back the words that were about to come out garbled, and nodded dumbly. "Where is she now?"

"Up on the roof! Like I said! An' she's all passed out…"

"Let's go." Shade said immediately, making her way towards the door.

When Misprint opened her eyes, she could only see the ceiling of the hallways, swaying and jarring back and forth as though she was one fucked up kid on a trampoline. Protruding at the top of her vision was the brim of a baseball cap and two wire frames…

"Specs!" She muttered thickly.

"Misprint! She's awake!" Specs hissed. Someone slapped a hand over her mouth to quiet her, and she obediently did so. She was too weak to try and resist anyways.

She realised, with a slight pit in her stomach, that they were carrying her. She was tipped onto her feet and had to reach out and grab Shade's arm to stop from pitching forwards onto the floor, which wouldn't make for silence.

She remembered everything in exact detail, and was having a hard time comprehending. The flames had come from _her _fingers, but how that was possible, she couldn't comprehend. But something about the steely set of Specs jaw line told her that he did, but it also told her that now was not the time for questions.

A quick glance around told her it was night time, the hallway was dark and empty looking. How long had she been out? She couldn't get the words passed Gemini's hand over her mouth, and had to be content with being rushed along to the dorm.

They finally managed to get to the dorm in complete silence. Gemini removed her hand from Misprints mouth and pushed it open. Misprint realised, with slight disgust in her stomach, that the floor was cleared off, and there were ribbons and brown paper strewn all over the floor. The party. She had forgotten. Shade didn't even glance her way, but kicked a path through the rest of the junk and pushed aside a few books on the bed. They deposited Misprint onto the mattress, but her energy had reappeared, and with a snap. She sat up immediately.

"What happened?" She demanded.

"That's what I want to know." Gemini said meaningfully, looking at Specs.

"All me books is back in me dorm!" He apologised. His eyes caught on the lap top that Shade and Misprint had stolen from the computer lab. "But could I use that?"

"By all means." Shade said, sweeping out her arm in a mock butler gesture. He nodded and opened it quickly. Gemini went over and leaned over his shoulder, her eyes flicking over the new windows he opened up.

Shade hesitated, then went over and sat next to Misprint, who avoided her gaze. A long, awkward silence passed, except for the clicking of the mouse and keys as Specs tried to find what he was looking for.

"I'm sorry we had a fight today." Shade finally said, allowing herself to bite it. Misprint raised her eyebrows. Shade was quite proud, as was herself, and both had a hard time apologising, especially to each other. But since she had done so, Misprint could take the plunge as well.

"I am too." She said softly. The two girls smiled, then jumped as Specs gave a cry of victory.

"Ah_ha_." He grinned, stopping as a picture and a long paragraph loaded on the screen. Misprint and Shade looked up, and quickly stood, making their way over to the desk, where he and Gemini were already reading.

The picture was quite detailed. It was the kind that usually depicted busty, women warriors scantily clad in rough looking hides, weilding spears and sticking out their chests importantly. This one had long, dark swirling hair and bright red eyes. Her clothing was basically scraps of some silvery looking stuff, and body was slim and tightly muscled. Focused between her hands was a ball of fire that seemed to burn through the computer screen. Misprint whistled under her breath.

"If I looked like her, all _my_ troubles would be over." She muttered. Shade elbowed her to shut her up, but couldn't help smiling a little. It sounded more like the old Misprint, instead of the new, scared one, who lived in constant fear and self pity. 

"She's a fire mage." Specs said, and fell silent, as though this explained everything.

"And?" Gemini prompted.

"_And_ she's one of the four elementals." He hurriedly confirmed. "Fire, water, earth, and air. Or wind."

"Elementals?" Misprint asked, furrowing her brows. "You mean…"

"I mean I think you're her." He said, traces of excitement detectable in his voice. She nodded, her brows still pulled together, but a few gleams of dawning in her eyes. Shade squinted as Specs proceeded to read the text out loud.

"A fire mage deals strictly in her own element, for trying to wield any other powers could exponentially damage her own. At first, her powers are akin to her emotions. As fire is the symbol of strength and anger, when the mage is extremely enraged, she can control an inexplicably great force."

__

"Don't!" She blurted, her hand shooting up and grabbing at his wrist. To both their surprise, she held fast, her fingers tightening until they throbbed. Spot jerked his hand backwards, but her fingers remained tight as ever, as persistent as ever. He glanced at her with a look that resembled perplexity, and tried to press his hand forwards towards her face, but she resisted, pressing back just as strongly.

"Whether it be towards a human or an object."

__

Misprint scowled at her so ferociously, she felt like she would do something spectacular, like set something on fire, or burn Shade to a crisp. A pile of ashes on the ground. With an angry growl, she turned, wrenched the door open, and then left, slamming it behind her.

Shade jumped as the knob crunched away from the door and flew across to the other side of the room.

"Only around Winter Solstice do they take the burden of fire on their shoulders, even if it is unknown to them at first. The strength they control is slowly replaced by the ability to shoot flame and ember."

__

From all five of her fingers shot a stream of fire that pooled into the palm of her hand. Misprint wasn't even surprised, she just held her palm up, the fire burning brighter than any other flame the both of them had ever seen. Gemini stared at it, feeling her insides erupt in surprise.

It was obvious the fire was in her palm. But deep in her, she could sense fire as well. A fire much stronger, but caged. Begging to be released.

"They're first attacks can leave them drained, sometimes with not even enough energy to stay conscious."

__

Misprint's eyes rolled up in her head and she fell into a dead faint

"Along with that, they develop a very small form of telepathy, but can only radiate emotion, most likely anger."

__

'Spot'. She thought suddenly, with a venom coursing through her veins that she had never felt before. S'tay away from me. I don't care where you are, or what you're planning. But stay the hell away from me.'

"Mages tend to be strong willed, unless they're family or friends are in danger."

__

"Hurt…hurt…" he repeated, rolling his eyes heavenwards "How's this for hurt? Shade lying on your dorm room floor with her throat ripped out." His tone was careless.

Misprint said nothing. He released her and stepped back. A silence passed between them, as she stared in the opposite direction. Her eyes flicked up to Shade, still sitting up with Racetrack, watching him flip a record onto the turn tables with ease. She seemed to be bantering him about something, grinning, eyes flashing. She looked so beautiful. Spot's whispers reached her ears, despite the pounding music.

"So. You comin' or not?" He asked softly. Terrified into submission, she followed him from the gym.

"They have no sympathy for those wallowing in self pity, however, can get obsessive over their own tragedies." 

__

Misprint had lost that spark she had that allowed her to do those crazy things. She hadn't worn rainbow socks in what seemed like forever, and spiking her hair just didn't seem that big a deal any more. She didn't care what she looked like, didn't care what people thought, only wallowed in this pool of self pity and depression, a spiral that sucked her downwards.

Misprint blinked and brushed a strand of hair away from her face. Specs words came rushing back to her. The four slayers, the witch, the elemental, and the god incarnate.

"We just gotta find us our god incarnate." She whispered. She sat down on her bed, eyes turned inward with thought. Her face showed no evident traces of humour, only this blank surprise and even confusion. Shade frowned. Again, the dead Misprint was showing through. The old Misprint would have been jumping around the room and trying to set things on fire.

She shook the thought out of her head as Specs finished the explanations and, for lack of better things to do, cleaned his glasses again on his shirt tail. Shade sighed and exchanged glances with Gemini. Both were weary from the party, and both were weary from all the explanations and fitting things together.

"I'll walk you both back to your dorms." She offered, feeling that she didn't want to stay in the same room with Misprint until the girl had sorted out her feelings and until they had both thought up less embarrassing ways to go into their apologies.

"Sounds good." Gemini shrugged. "I guess Mondie's asleep by now."

"Won't you get caught?" Specs asked practically. Shade rolled her eyes at him, and he sighed. "Right. Okay, sounds cool."

"I'll be…here." Misprint said, even though she didn't have to. Where would she go?

Most preferred not to answer that question.

"A'right." Shade said, with a small smile. Misprint returned it, but again, she seemed hollow. For a few moments, they had glimpsed the wry humour she once possessed. Now she was like a corpse again.

They left in solemn silence.

"Did you hear what she said?" Gemini whispered. "It sounded like her old self."

"Perhaps," Specs began, and both fell silent. "With her new physical strength, emotional strength with follow."

"So the old Misprint will come back?" Shade asked hopefully.

"Time will tell." He replied grimly. The whole conversation was conducted in whispers, so as not to disturb the rest of the school.

Shade squinted as a small figure came into view at the end of the hallway. By the smooth, yet jerky movements and pointed hair, they recognised it as Chaos.

"That you, Shade?" She hissed.

"It's me. Back from slaying?" Shade asked, going forwards to meet her. Chaos nodded grimly, her eyes were set with determination, the trio could even see it in the dark.

"You could put it that way. Ran into two of them."

"Where?"

"Inside." 

Gemini looked up, her eyes alert. 

"One of 'um I dusted easily. He was a nervous looking guy. The other disappeared, but I don't know if he went back to the hell hole he came from, or if he's still here."

"He's dust." Gemini butted in. Chaos turned and gave her a suspicious look. "We'll explain later."

"Just so long as he ain't out and about. Or…in and about." Chaos contradicted herself confusingly. She shook her head. "A'right. But I want a full explanation in the morning. And so will Dutch and Bums, once they hear about it."

"And Jack." Shade added, almost silently. Specs nodded, but didn't look her way. She sighed and her shoulders slumped. In the excitement, she failed to notice that Jack hadn't been present. His absence from the party didn't ruin it, but it gave her an undercurrent of grief.

"I'm toining in." Chaos murmured, brushing the hair out of her eyes which, Gemini noticed sadly, were already etched with lines of age. "This night's been a long one."

"Amen to that." Specs confirmed as she sauntered past them, towards her dorm. Gemini turned and opened her own, pressing a finger to her lips when she saw the darkness that spilled from the insides.

"See you guys tomorrow. Tell Mis sweet dreams for me, a'right?"

"Sure thing." Shade said abruptly. Gemini smiled and shut the door softly behind her. In her exhaustion and haste to get to her bed, she didn't notice Mondie's fingertips glowing a soft, white blue.

Specs and Shade continued down the steps. The window would have been an easier route, but she wasn't too eager to suggest it to Specs, who might not have the best of footing. And with the snow and ice that coated the window sills, it was necessary to maintain balance. Otherwise you'd have all of hell to pay.

And a broken neck just in time for Christmas.

"This is weird." He murmured, his eye brows furrowed. She frowned.

"What's weird?"

"When the council sent the slayers to New York, they had no idea that their witch _and_ elemental were there already."

"Or me." Shade said, remembering the way he had particularily reacted to her strength.

"Or you." To her dismay, she realised she was surrounded by all these supernatural beings with a purpose and a destiny, and she was just some kid with weird strength.

All except for Mondie, who was just a kid with weird ears.

But the questions had to stop when they reached the bottom floor. Mrs. Mayen's room was right off the main hallway, and even in her sleep, she could hear things from a mile away. They could hear soft snoring coming from her main bedroom and, taking this as a go-ahead signal, they rushed out the doors, into the cool night air.

Shade shivered. She was still dressed up in the Santa Claus getup, which worked for the man himself, because he wasn't wearing it as a miniskirt. Specs saw it and smirked.

"You shoulda put on something warmer."

"No, you just want me to put on something a little more decent." She replied. "You prig."

"Did I say that?" He said lightly. From him, it sounded like the sleaziest of pick up lines. She flushed and wrapped her arms tighter around herself.

The moon lit the snowy scene, and it looked as though with the flash of a camera, it could be the perfect Hallmark Christmas card. The dirty buildings of the city didn't ruin the view, and the bushes trimmed with white icing and the pale substance spread over the grass like a fresh sheet did warm her heart slightly, if it didn't chill her flesh.

"Can we hurry?" She moaned, teeth on edge and chattering. "I don't know how Mis was able to stand the weather up on the roof."

"She's a _fire_ elemental." Specs reminded her.

"Oh yeah."

"Shh. I don't know if Kloppman's still awake." He cautioned. She obediently fell silent. Even though Kloppman could be lenient, he didn't enjoy being awoken in the middle of the night, and his suspicions would definitely be aroused by a girl in a short micro skirt gallivanting into the boys dorms. 

They crept up to the floor on which it seemed all her friends resided. Mush and Blink near the end, Racetrack and Dutchy, even though he was out slaying, Bumlets and Specs, and Jack. She eyed his dorm room door with supposition. Imagine he didn't go to the party after slaying…was too worn out…was roughed up…imagine he just went right to his own dorm and fell asleep…

She faithfully walked Specs up to his own door and nodded a good night to him.

"You didn't have to walk me back." He said pointlessly.

"I figured Mis would want some time to herself." Shade said. He nodded. It was a good reason. He gave a little two fingered salute. 

"Merry Christmas Shade." He offered. She smiled.

"Merry Christmas, Specs." The door was shut, and she found her eyesight was straying from it to the one next to it.

Stephen Carter.

She slowly moved towards it and placed her hand on the knob. She had never been here, but Misprint would have. Thousands of times. All the times she had those injuries, instead of simply waiting for Shade to get back, she had to climb out the window, brave the fire escape and window ledge climb, dash across the snow, up another fire escape, through Racetrack's dorm without waking him up, down the hall, and to this dorm where he would be waiting.

It boggled the mind.

She opened it a crack and shivered. The window had been left open, and the cold air had filled the room up with dangerous misgivings. She opened it a little wider and saw, with revolt, the blood wasn't coming out of the carpet.

She closed the door.

Misprint lay back on her bed, staring at the ceiling. She could feel her doubt about this new thing about her slowly ebb away, and she realised she might enjoy this new power. If she ever learned how to use it properly. The knowledge that she could have charred Gemini there and then still burned inside of her, and she felt guilty, even though it hadn't happened.

She knew, somehow, that Spot wouldn't visit her again. Not unless it was completely necessary. And she doubted anything would be necessary enough to show his face at St. Mary's again. She was that angry at him.

She stared at her hands and could almost see the fire radiating in the palms. She touched her fingers together, and smiled as they tingled with heat and anticipation. Remembering Gemini's wicca palooza over the school, she realised she had better not try anything. Burning down the girls dorm would definitely not be the equivalent of a Merry Christmas.

She remembered, suddenly, running into the living room and shouting with glee when she saw her stocking filled to the brim, saw the lights twinkling on the Christmas tree, saw her parents…

She firmly rolled over and shut her eyes. The Christmas complacency that might have luminated her spirits for a moment died, and she fell asleep.

Shade opened the door to Jacks dorm and hesitantly peered inside. He kept it so neat, it was a wonder he didn't go insane. School books and assignments were line up perfectly on the shelves, along with a little Post-it note, proclaiming if anything was due that day. There were no clothes on the floor, nor strewn over the bed, and the sheets were pulled flat and were bare of wrinkles.

She closed the door behind her and flicked on the light. No sign of Jack anywhere. In fact, the dorm looked almost uninhabited except for the few run of the mill teenage boy objects on the dresser and the homework.

She thought of the long climb or walk back up to her dorm, thought of Misprint sitting on the bed with that thoughtful frown, thought of Jack returning and finding her in his dorm…wearing a tight skirt…Merry Christmas?

She was so tired. The bed looked incredibly inviting, even if he wasn't in it, and it definitely beat falling into her own and finding last years assigments burried in the jungle of sheets she had unknowingly created.

With a yawn, she kicked off her wet, cold "Santa boots" and crawled into his bed, enjoying the feel of the warmth it gave off, even if no one had occupied it for a day. She curled up into a tight ball and tucked herself under the covers, feeling sleep envelope her completely and almost immediately.

"Merry Christmas Shade." She whispered to herself.

Spot barged into the lair, teeth chattering horribly, and eyes rampant. Rosie and Trip were seated near the doorway, cards dangling from their fingers, looking as apathetic as the devil himself.

"Where you been?" Rosie asked, mock housewife. "Dinner's gettin' cold."

"Shaddup!" He snapped, wrenching off his shirt which was drenched in snow and throwing it into the corner of the hallway. She looked up with an indignant glare.

"Merry Christmas to you too, you grinch!" 

"Don't test me Rosie!" He yelled, stalking towards her and shoving a finger in her face. She didn't so much as blink, but glared at him. "Jus'…don't…"

"Whassa matter?" Trip asked, putting his cards down. In truth of all truths, he hadn't really been concentrating on the game, he was too busy ogling Rosie. But it bothered him to see his master all put out. "What happened out there?"

"Didn't get anyone?" Rose asked sympathetically.

He pressed two fingers to his temples, and his eyes flashed pain. Real pain. Human pain. Rosie's eyes widened and she jumped to her feet.

"You didn't."

"Too late."

"Who?"

"Jack."

"Kelly?"

"The ripper."

"Too bad. I liked his style."

"Of _course _Jack Kelly!" He snapped, turning and storming away. Trip and Rosie stared after him, dumbfounded, as he stalked through the main room and up the staircase towards his own room. 

"You're kidding." Slade had the messenger by the throat, and was slowly digging his fingers into the vampires esophagus. Breathing wasn't mandatory to these creatures, but when one's throat is being slowly penetrated by your leaders fingers, it's easy to imagine that it does cause a great deal of pain.

"I ain't kiddin' you, Slade!" He promised, through choked vocal chords.

"You realise I _do_ shoot the messenger?"

"Slade, lemme go!" He pleaded, his face turning paler than usual. Slade tilted his head to one side and studied the pathetic minion. Then, with a sneer of disgust, he let go, letting the demon fall to his feet.

"You can tell I'm upset when I let you get away with that." He muttered, feeling his fists curl upon themselves in anger. The boy frantically massaged at his neck, trying to get his throat back into shape, taking huge gulps of air, just for reassurance. 

"Edge is dead. Along with Rex." He repeated, staggering up right as Slade glanced over his shoulder, he didn't want to appear weak, even though Slade knew it, beyond a doubt. "One staked. One burned."

"Burned?" Slade raised an eyebrow. The boy nodded.

"Burned."

"By whom?" Slade asked, turning back around and staring out the window. The boy gulped and tensed himself to run, in case Slade should find the news distressing.

"The girl."

Jack's hand rested heavily on the doorknob, and he paused, with faint glimmerings of a smirk about his lips. Shade was inside. He could tell that much by just touching the door, just being in the vicinity of his room.

He hated this new power. He wanted it out of him, wanted it gone for good. There was no way he'd be able to keep it a secret for long. How lengthy a time period would it be before they noticed that he had no heart beat? Didn't eat as much as he used to? Disappeared for long periods of time during slaying? Had _fangs_ for crying out loud? 

Granted, they weren't long when he wasn't in the mood to feed, and he was grateful for that. He found the idea of Shade sleeping in his dorm produced a strange longing inside of him, and it frightened him.

He didn't want to hurt anyone. But at the same time, he wanted to…

He cursed Spot viciously in his mind. He knew as well as anyone who knew Jack that he'd rather die than become what he hunted every night. How was he supposed to kill off his own kind now? Without anyone noticing him hesitate?

He slowly pushed open the door, the darkness of the room not bothering him in the slightest. He could see everything. Night vision. He closed the door behind him as softly as possible, and shucked off his sweat shirt, which was still soaked with snow and covered in blood. He hastily buried it in the "wash" bin, hoping his other clothing would muffle the scent of blood that Shade would easily be able to pick up on. 

She stirred slightly in her sleep, and he jumped, knowing that if she woke up, stared at him with those big mahogany coloured eyes, she'd be impossible to resist. And he knew he wasn't one for will power.

He glanced out the window at the serene, snow coloured setting of the city. The dorms were set far away enough so that the traffic noises couldn't reach them, and it made him feel cut off.

From life.

He sat on the edge of the bed, feeling his skin crawl with the longing to peel back the covers and see her throat…even touch it. Just to touch it with one of his fingers…that pale, white skin the colour of ivory…he clenched his hands together and bit the inside of his lip. 

He spent the rest of the night staring at the small form of his girlfriend curled peacefully under his sheets.

When she woke up, he had long since gone down to the chapel for the early morning services, and there was no sign he had been there at all.


	18. eighteen

****

Eighteen

Misprint woke up to the sound of church bells in the distance.

This was the signal to get up and get your ass down to the chapel to pray. But Misprint wasn't in the mood to offer her worship to some God that she wasn't even sure she believed in any more. She folded her hands on top of the covers and silently felt her heart beat through her skin, staring up at the ceiling.

Shade wasn't in her bed. But Shade could still be out in a manic fit of slaying, scattering the sweet snow with ashes. Once she even missed class to take down a couple masters who were old enough to actually see the light of day and not burst into flame.

The reminder of fire made her again stare at her palms, still getting used to the fact that it was _her_ power to control. She wanted to badger Specs for lessons, but knew he would have his plate full getting Gemini to calm down with the magic. Maybe she could teach herself on her own…

Grimacing, she slid out of bed and shivered as her bare feet touched the cold floor. The school decided to spend all its funds on services and the Christmas feast, which wasn't much of a feast, therefore sacrificing a few things that most took for granted. Like heat.

Misprint glanced down at her arms and realised the scars were fading.

The door burst open and Shade appeared, still wearing the Santa costume, her eyes hollow.

"Hey Mis." She yawned, closing the door behind her.

"Out slaying?" Misprint asked quietly, feeling suddenly like Shade was a stranger. Shade shook her head "no". She had never lied to her friend and didn't feel like starting now.

"I went over to Jack's."

"All night?" Misprint raised an eyebrow as she grabbed her school uniform off various spots on the floor and swept into the washroom.

"Don't be a fruit, nothing happened. He wasn't even there." She replied, grabbing a brush and running it through her hair.

"Where was he?"

"How should I know? Chances are that he's down at the service, now, like a good little Catholic."

"We should get down their too, unless we're on the list of the eternally damned." Misprint replied, parting her hair in the middle and letting it flop over her ears, before shrugging and pulling on her blouse.

"Our names are already on that list. _In ink._" Shade replied. She glanced down at her mussed ensemble. "I wonder how they'd react if I showed up like _this…_" 

Spot stood outside the dorms, staring up at Misprint's window. He knew why he had come back, but wasn't quite sure that he was within the bounds of sanity. Jack had to pass that alley. Spot had to be in that alley. Jack had to have drawn blood. Spot had to have replaced it…

With human blood.

This wasn't his blood in his veins. It was Jack's blood. It was blood that crawled with anger and happiness and sadness and _guilt._ Emotions crowded into his brain as his gaze fastened to the window, unflickering and steady, like a candle shielded from the wind. He knew Misprint would be up there, probably getting ready for the long day of services and maybe gift giving between friends. The need to talk to her burned in a way he hadn't felt in such a long time, but things were different now.

He was insane, coming back the day after she had sent him such a brutal message. And even though his life was fucked at the moment, he found, with a human cowardice that disgusted him, he didn't want to lose it. Not yet.

He murmured softly to himself as he turned and stalked away, his shoes crunching in the snow, eyes darting back and forth. Most would call him insane, but none of them knew the story.

"Merry Christmas, Mis." He murmured under his breath. "Merry…merry…" The words got stuck in his throat, lost in a sea of inane babble.

"Hey Chaos." 

Chas blinked, then twisted her head around. To her irritation, Racetrack stood behind her, hands shoved uncomfortably in the standard St. Mary's boys uniform trousers, eyes darting up and down and side to side, trying to avoid hers. She sighed and almost felt like doing the same. Last night's events were not forgotten, not by a long shot. She couldn't even remember if she had taken her bra back or if he still had it. Shit…

"Hey. Can we make this quick?" She said abruptly. 

"Uh…" He looked rather hurt at her reaction, but tried not to show it. "Right. Right. I, ah, just wanted to apologise for last night."

"Apologise?" She repeated, furrowing her brows. "What did _you_ do?"

"Well, for Shade. You know…the…the present she gave me?" He reminded her uncomfortably. 

"That wasn't your fault." She shrugged. Her eyes narrowed, and for a frightening moment, she looked angry enough to kill. Creepy. "_Was _it?" 

"No!" Racetrack said quickly, repressing the urge to raise his hands in the international "I'm arrested" gesture. "No, you think that was _my_ idea?"

Chaos shrugged testily and wished _she_ had pockets to jam her hands into. They seemed a safe sort of comfort. But, of course, restricted to the school kilts, they just didn't have that privilege. She could hardly wait 'till Jack either got over this stupid obsession with Spot, killed him, or got killed off himself. That way they could drop the uniforms, drop the normalcy act, drop the accents, and never have to return to this city ever again.

He tried to get back on track, but her sullen silence was throwing him off.

"You said _quick_." She reminded him coldly.

"Right. Just…sorry."

"That it?" 

"That's it."

"Apology accepted." She said brusquely. "Now, if you'll excuse me, we both gotta Christmas ceremony to attend." Her manner was as blunt as all get out, and she didn't even offer a light hearted look to comfort him as she turned around and elbowed her way into the hall. Racetrack sighed and scratched at the back of his head. Women were hard enough to figure out, and it just so happened that he managed to fall for one of the most confusing of the entire species. Sighing, he followed her in.

Most of their friends had already found their seats. Misprint and Shade were seated at the back, characteristically. It was the only place in the entire hall where, if you had the chutzpah to cause a little mischief, you could do so without being seen. For a while, anyhow. Gemini and Blink were seated a few rows up, arms casually around each others shoulders. Mondie and Mush had tried to do the same thing, but were warned, and quite a few times, by the surrounding nuns and teachers, that they would be _excused from the ceremony_ if they did so, so they were forced to sit staring straight ahead. Specs, Dutchy, and Bumlets were up near the front having some sort of serious looking conversation. Something seemed to be troubling Specs. His infamous glasses were off, perched at the top of his head, and his fingers were at his temples. But the matter of their conversation was unknown and probably unthinkable to most of the students in the school. 

"So now we have almost all of 'em." Dutchy was saying in a low voice. "Slayers, elemental, witch…"

"You _have_ started on Gem's trainin', haven't you?" Bumlets asked, raising an eyebrow. Specs shook his head.

"There hasn't been time."

"You are _really_ pushing it, you know." Dutchy said. "That goil could be dangerous without the proper training."

"Yeah, the council's been giving me hell for it. But it's just that so much has been going on…I can't…" For a moment, he looked so strained that the boys felt a twinge of sympathy amidst their scorn. But not for long. They were slayers.

"Look." Dutchy said. "Lemme train Mis, you take care a Gemini. Besides, she won't give you too much trouble, besides being super over eager."

"A'right." Specs agreed. "I'll write to the council…tell them that we've found our elemental."

"And tell them that we wanna get outta here." Bumlets said. "We musta dusted every vampire from here to Greenwhich village on Halloween alone!"

Before Specs could reply, an imposing nun swept up to the front, and the students all fell silent, as though a wave swept over the church.

Misprint glanced down at her fingertips, which were twitching in her lap. She wanted to set something on fire. It was a strange desire that the _old_ Misprint would have indulged. She glanced up and wondered where Amy was. But no, if she was caught with flames shooting out of her fingers, she'd be exorcised and expelled before she could click her heels together and wish she was back in Kansas. 

Shade frowned as she scanned the auditorium. The sight of Gemini and Blink, grinning and trying to keep their whispers down to a low roar, and Mush and Mondie sending each other sweet glances, she had grown quite lonely for Jack. But he was no where to be seen. She began to feel faint twists of fear in her stomach, wondering if maybe he had gotten into a bit more trouble than he usually let on. Slayers were pretty powerful, but vampires could easily outnumber them.

Very easily.

She inhaled sharply and tried to keep still, trying to let the Christmas sermon calm her. But it did the exact opposite. The dry, biting tones of the nun was the last thing she wanted to listen to.

There was a small pop and a minute flash of light beside her, and she glanced over to see Misprint, with tiny wisps of smoke rising from her fingers, grinning guiltily.

Mondie glanced over at the row of imposing teachers, then bent over and picked her coat up from the floor. Feigning concern at its state of cleanliness, she brushed it off, then placed it on the pew. That done, she slid her hand underneath it and poked Mush on the leg. He jumped and glanced at her, (she was staring innocently at the nun, as though nothing had happened) then down at the coat, which wasn't moving. Shrugging, he turned back to the front.

Gemini felt a firm tap at her elbow and glanced up to see one of the teachers wagging a finger at her and Blink. She furrowed her eyebrows then rolled her eyes as she turned back to the front. The nuns scowled on any nonsense at the sermons, but as long as they were paying attention…

The three boys at the front definitely were not. Specs mind was on a multitude of things as he tried to keep his theories straight. Out of all seven of the fated positions, the God incarnate had eluded them the most. With powers of protection and fertility, this was one of the most obscure ones they were looking for. Even though Winter Solstice should have clued them in…

Mondie rolled her eyes and poked at Mush again. He glanced down at the coat, and was quite confused indeed to see that there was nothing there. He scratched at his curls, and looked up at Mondie again, who looked his way and widened her eyes obviously. Under the coat, she wiggled her fingers up and down, but the helpful gesture was lost on him, who shrugged and tried to pay attention to the nun.

This time, instead of just a firm tap on the elbow, the teacher grabbed her arm and pulled her away from Blink. Gemini scowled and yanked her arm away, and in return, got a firm order to move a few pews down.

Shade elbowed Misprint furiously. She didn't want her friend to get expelled. God knew, with this new wimpy attitude Spot had given her, and strange, untrained powers, she'd be mince meat the moment she set foot on the street. Misprint shrugged and motioned to the sermon, widening her eyes innocently. The exchange took Shade's mind off Jack for a moment, but not for long.

Exasperated, Mondie reached over, her fingers emerging from the folds of the coat, and grabbed Mush's hand. Mush jumped and opened his mouth to yelp, but Mondie gave his fingers a warning squeeze and pulled his hand under the coat. 

Mush still didn't quite understand, but was happy to hold his girls hand. 

Shade may not have been one of the chosen slayers, but she definitely had instinct. And when a hand encircled her upper arm as she was leaving the church and pulled her aside, her instinct was to grab a stake and unleash hell.

Fortunately, for Jack, she had no stake.

"Jack!" She exclaimed, as he grinned at her in a mischievous manner. "Where've you _been_?"

"Shh." He pressed a finger to her lips, and glanced up at the stream of students leaving. The teachers leading the procession were busy chatting, and the ones that hadn't left were still oblivious in the church. Quickly, he pulled her around the side of the building, the snow crunching under both their boots.

Shade found herself babbling as he let her go and leaned against the wall, two strands of hair falling before his eyes.

"I was so _worried_." She said, immediately regretting it. "Because I didn't see ya since after classes…jeez, I can't even remember if it was after classes…and you missed the Christmas party! I still got your present, all wrapped for you and everything! Oh, and you'll never guess. _Misprint is a fire elemental!_ Isn't that _weird_? Hey, you still haven't told me where you were. All through the service I was…"

"Fer Christ sake, calm down!" Jack exclaimed, with a smirk. A different smirk. A little darker than the one Shade remembered. "You'd think there was something seriously _wrong_." She opened her mouth to protest, but his small grin stopped her. Something about him was a little slyer than usual, but she brushed it off as nothing. He was probably just smug she had gotten herself in such a fix about it. "Look, I'm sorry I missed the party and everything, but things got a little out of hand."

"Oh yeah?" She asked, arching an eyebrow. "_How _outta hand?"

"Very." Jack said, shoving his hands in his pockets. He felt a little guilty for lying, but mostly anxious she'd somehow clue in to what was going on. And as soon as that happened, she'd tell Specs. And Specs would send an email to Washington. He fought down a lump of fear in his throat. "Ah…I got bitten somewhere around Williamsburg Bridge." Seeing the shocked look on her face, he hastily added; "He didn't take too much. Not before I dusted him."

"So why didn't you come back to the school?"

"I couldn't remember anything for a while." He lied. He didn't want to get into details, for fear of forgetting them later. Summing it up, he finished; "I passed out in an alley 'round Central Park. When I came too, I was feeling a little better."

Shade paused, eyes narrowed, then leaned forwards. She pulled the collar of his jacket down, and winced when she saw the two bite marks. They looked pretty fresh as well, as though they had just healed over. She sighed and leaned down again. Jack was relieved. Having her skin that close was hard to deal with.

"You're a lucky man, Kelly." She said, in what was supposed to be a stern voice, but it ended up rather relieved. He raised his eyebrows, and wormed one of his hands under her sweater, pressing his cold fingers against the skin covering her waist. With a smirk, he pressed her up against the side of the church, his lips an inch from hers.

"You don't gotta tell _me_ that." He replied.

"Jesus Christ!"

Misprint paused outside of Gemini's door. Maybe this wasn't the best time to interrupt, it sounded as though the adventures within were pretty dangerous. 

"Make it stop!" Gemini was screeching.

"It's _you're_ spell!" Specs was sounding uncharacteristically huffy. "_I_ can't do anything about it!"

"Then tell _me_ what to do!" Gemini wailed. Taking her courage in both hands, Misprint pulled the door open.

A pencil shot past her head and embedded itself in the plaster across the wall.

Specs grabbed her arm and pulled her inside.

"Close the door!" He said quickly. "I ain't supposed to be here."

"Duh." Misprint remarked over her shoulder. "And for someone who's _not supposed to be here_, you sure take a lesson or two in being inconspicuous. What did I interrupt?"

"Spell. Went wild." Gemini remarked, her hair helter skelter across her head. She hastily pushed the red locks from her face.

"On a _pencil_?" Misprint asked, raising her eyebrow. Specs sighed.

"Be glad it was a pencil and not a flaming ball of energy." He told her sternly, crossing the room to the math book, which was open to a page covered in scrawls of ink. Gemini's eyes lit up at his last statement. Sensing this, he glanced over his shoulder with a strict look from behind his glasses. "That's for later."

"Phooey." She remarked sulkily, dropping onto the bed and resting her chin on her fists. Misprint decided not to remind Gemini that a ball of energy certainly wouldn't have been as harmless as the pencil, and instead, turned to Specs, who was flipping pages in frustration. Realising that she was supposed to be with Dutchy, learning how to control her powers, he turned and raised an eyebrow.

"Can I help you?" He asked, a trifle too late. Misprint shrugged.

"Dutchy's got some minor burn wounds. Got any healing spells?"

The weeks began to pass strangely uneventfully. After the packed beginning of the year, it almost seemed _wrong_ not to have a vampire crawling through the window, or a new demon lurking on the horizon. Misprint began to learn how to stop frying things as she thought of them, and Gemini's magic lessons were…well…taking place. Eventfully. 

School was just as boring as ever, but even more so. It seemed that after Christmas break, the eager teachers lost their zeal for teaching, and the assignments just got duller and duller. Misprint failed to see how copying a list of adjectives from a French Text book down onto a piece of paper and turning it in for marks was going to help her, but she'd rather do the worthless than fail a year. 

The only thing that presented anyone with any trouble was Jack.

The boy was not himself, to put it frankly. Chaos couldn't have cared less, and while the other slayers were a bit more concerned, none so much as Shade. And understandably. She was crazy about Jack, and to see him so distant was a little hard on her.

Jack, however, had is own troubles.

"I think this area's clear." Jack remarked, running another vampire through and watching it collapse into a cloud of dust.

"Thank God." Shade replied, pushing her toque back slightly and wiping sweat off her forehead. "Madison Square Garden's _always_ the hardest. Can we go home?"

"Shade." He said, trying to be stern, like the real Jack would have been. It was hard. His memory and emotions connected to the time before were slowly fizzling out, like cigarette smoke. _Jack_ would have wanted himself and Shade to wipe out all possible traces of vampiric activity that they could. Frankly, all _he_ wanted to do was pull Shade towards him and bury his face in her throat.

She wouldn't like that.

And she had a stake.

"Tell you what." He compensated. "You take Tenth, I'll take West Thirty Fourth, and we'll meet back here in an hour."

"You abandoning me, Kelly?" She grinned, sticking her stake into her belt. In all honesty, she was rather disappointed. He never seemed to want to slay with _her_ anymore. And she was concerned about him getting in trouble, what with the bite a few months ago. She leaned on one leg. His cocky grin filled the darkness between them.

"Jeez, Shade, can't handle a couple of vampires without me to protect you?" He asked. Shade's brows furrowed and she shook her fist threateningly, but Jack had already turned and was walking away. "Holler if you get in trouble." He remarked over his shoulder.

Shade scowled. Yeah right. And he'd hear her on West Thirty Fourth? It wasn't hard to guess that he was just trying to get away.

She wanted to follow him, but no doubt, he'd sense her with some sort of weird slayer ability. And if he was edgy enough with that stake, she'd end up with a nice puncture wound through her chest. Not her idea of a good night.

Before some other hungry vamp could find her, she turned and made for Tenth. She wanted to get out of Madison Square Garden as soon as possible. It was dangerous if you were slaying alone.

Jack turned a corner and immediately lost the pleasant, amused face he wore whenever he was around her. His eyes became cold and grey as he stared forwards, and his coat flapped out behind him. A jet of smoke coming from an underground sewer cloaked him as he stalked forwards, shoving his hands in the pockets of his coat, boots hitting the pavement with silent thuds.

When he first started doing this, he didn't like it. It was a symbol of everything he hated and had worked to wipe out while he had still been…alive? He had hated the stalking and the drunk victims and even the _taste_. But it had just been a phase. A few human emotions still clinging onto a mind that was long dead.

Now it was just a cold, methodical way to survive and stay away from Shade.

If Jack didn't know affection, at least he was able to grow accustomed to people. And he was already accustomed to Shade. That was why he fought himself from biting her. It was hard to do, especially when his arm was around her waist, or she was hugging him, her throat hovering tantalisingly near. But he wouldn't. It was more than just the fact that she'd tell Specs. It was a…strange emotion. It didn't fit in his new life.

He swore softly. Of course he would have had to have taken a girl friend in his old life, just to make things nice and complicated now. And the sad thing was, Shade was the easiest part. Chaos? He was ready to tear her throat out the other day when she yelled at him for staying out all night and wandering into class late. 

He caught sight of her immediately. More like he _sensed_ her. Tall, blonde, and unsteady in her red valentine high heels. She was clacking nervously down the icy pavement, cursing her decision of footwear.

Marcy was just coming back from visiting a friend. Her apartment was down the block, she really saw no need for an escort, nor a ride. But there was a strange feeling in her stomach that told her she might have been wrong…

A strange, cold breath on her neck made her stop dead, and she could sense a figure behind her. She shivered, even though her thick coat was built to protect her thin, suddenly numb body.

"Ain't it a little late for you to be out?" A soft voice questioned as a hand slid around her throat.

Gemini was restless. Mondie was sitting on her bed, drumming her fingers against the mattress, in a jittery manner. The two girls eyes met, and they both glanced away. The ticking of the clock added to the atmosphere, as though they were both waiting for something to happen. But what the "something" was, they couldn't tell. Specs had gone back to his own dorm, claiming he didn't want to be mauled by Gemini's flying objects, and Mush and Blink were holed up studying, too busy cramming to provide a diversion.

Mondie stopped drumming her fingers, and it almost seemed as though the clock was slowing down.

"Something's wrong." Gemini murmured, pushing herself to her feet and pacing. Mondie looked up in surprise.

"You feel it too?" She asked softly. Gemini gave her a look.

"Of course I feel it. I'm a _witch_." She said this with certain relish, but it wasn't as funny as it usually was. Mondie flashed her eyebrows up and down, then started flicking almost nervously at her fingernails. "Wait a minute. _You_ feel it?"

"It's kinda hard _not_ to." Mondie replied irritably. "It stinks."

"Yeah." Gemini wrinkled her nose, and stopped pacing for a moment. "Sometimes, you gotta wonder…"

Both girls thought of the beginning of the year. Their minds slowly roved to their current situation. Misprint had nearly incinerated Dutchy. Gemini had nearly impaled Specs with a flying pencil. Chaos, Dutchy, Bumlets, Jack, and Shade were out risking their lives every night to keep them all alive, and Specs was more feverish about completing his mission and finding his god incarnate. 

"Tell me about it." Mondie murmured, falling backwards onto her mattress.

"Not thinking 'bout Chaos." Racetrack murmured, pacing round his dorm room. " Not thinking 'bout Chaos. Not thinking 'bout Chaos. Not thinking 'bout Chaos." There was a pause, and his face lit up with satisfaction. "There. Not thinking 'bout Chaos." He smiled in satisfaction and tilted his chin up.

"Jesus Christ." Dutchy exclaimed, the door bursting open. His skin was slightly pink in patches from where Specs had to do some heavy duty healing. "I swear, that girl is a menace. It's absolute _chaos_ in there…"

"Dammit Dutchy!" Racetrack groaned, slapping a hand to his forehead. "Just as I got going…"

"What? What are you talking about?" Dutchy asked, squinting slightly from behind his glasses. He closed the door behind him. Technically, he and Racetrack were supposed to be in bed, but when he wasn't in the teacher's sight, he didn't care much for regulations.

"Chaos." Racetrack mumbled, rather embarrassed. Dutchy raised his eyebrows, then a knowing look flashed in his eyes.

"Ah. Right. You're _lover_…"

"I wish." Racetrack snapped, turning and storming into the washroom. He turned the tap on and cupped his hands under the jet of water, before splashing it onto his face and grabbing a towel from the rack. 

Dutchy shrugged, wincing as the newly healed skin on his shoulder tugged at his muscle slightly. "Ah, forget about it. Get to know her, and she's not all she seems. You wouldn't like her anyways..."

"But I _do_ Dutchy!" He replied, appearing, the hair above his forehead damp. "And I _can't_ forget about it."

Dutchy rolled his eyes at the dramatic statement. Only a few months of rooming with the boy had taught him that he tended to be quite the thespian when stating facts. And exaggeration never hurt anybody.

"You will, Romeo." He replied. "You will."

"Maybe I'll go down to her dorm tomorrow." He replied from the bathroom. Dutchy was going to advise him on the dangers of such an act, then shrugged. Nothing _he_ said would be able to convince the passionate Cassanova that it might result in his arms being detatched from his short body.

Jack sensed her long before she came into view. But it was too late.

Shade rounded the corner to see Jack standing over a dead girl, a brutal wound shining on her neck, her hair and skin stained with blood. She winced. The sight of failure was never a pretty one.

"_There_ you are." She scolded, in a much gentler tone of voice. Jack always did take it hard when he found a body. One less person he wasn't able to save. Shade preferred to look at it as one more vampire who'd eventually go to bed with holy water marks up and down his sorry ass, but she knew Jack wouldn't see it her way. "I was waiting forever."

"Sorry." He mumbled. He sounded humbled. Sweet. She went to him and he hesitantly slipped an arm around her waist.

"It kinda hoits, don't it?" She asked. He sighed and nodded slowly. "Don't worry. We'll kill 'um dead tomorrow."

"Yeah." Jack replied, his eyes never leaving the wound.

"You got something on your lip." She remarked, reaching up towards his face. He spun around so fast he nearly pushed her over, and swiped at his mouth with the sleeve of his jacket.

"No I don't." He mumbled, sounding almost angry. With that, he stalked down the alley, leaving the girl lying in the snow. Shade looked down at the bite marks, brows furrowed, then up at the dark figure which was quickly departing.

"'Ey Jack!" She called, adjusting the stake at her belt. "Wait up!"


	19. nineteen

****

Nineteen

"That's right." Shade muttered to herself as she stepped through the spiked gates. "You take the graveyard. _I'll_ take Madison Square." She grazed the area with her eyes and puffed up her chest. "Because I'm big an' manly. And you're weak and feminine." With this, she strutted inside and pulled her stake from its resting place.

The graveyard was a good place for beginners. Only fledglings dared to haunt the dark, foreboding place, and it didn't take _much_ to knock off a fledgling or two. Pathetic.

She twirled the stake idly between her fingers as she did a routine patrol among the stones. She didn't like whatever had came over Jack, and it simply lasted too long to be a teenage phase. She _knew_ he was restless and, frankly, she was too. But why did getting at Spot matter so much to him? Why wouldn't he _tell_ her?

Then there was Misprint. She wasn't really the same. Sure, her dry, biting new attitude and cynicism was a lot better than the empty eyes and the weak, helpless air she had before, but it made Shade feel lonesome. She had a strange feeling that nothing was left for her anymore.

"Slaying's all I got going for me." She said sadly, as a thin, willowy vampire popped up from behind a monument and bared its fangs, leaping at her. Easily, she slammed an arm into his stomach and flipped him over. "Misprint don't care if I live or die." She turned around and stabbed a foot between her attackers legs. "And Jack's acting like he's lost his emotions or something." She rammed a foot into the wounded vampires side, flipping him onto his back. "The slayer's are all too caught up in there _profession…_" She ground his face into the dirt. "And I never really _knew_ Gemini. Or Mondie. Or any a' them. The only person who I ever really knew is Misprint. And she's gone." With that, she slammed her stake through his back, sighing as he crumpled into dust. 

In a few moments, she had managed to take out three more. It wasn't much of a task, the fledglings were never good fighters, unless they had been martial arts masters before hand. And that was as rare as Chaos giggling at the sight of Racetrack holding up her bra. 

"Jesus. What's left?" She asked another one of her victims, just before he disappeared. She pulled her stake back and dusted it off on her dark pants, and sighed. "Nothing. _Nothing's_ left. And that's all there is to it."

She turned around and blocked an oncoming punch from a vampire. She delivered two quick blows to his stomach, then pushed him over onto his back.

"Even _slaying's _lost it's appeal!" She wailed, pinning him and slamming her fist into his face. She reached for her stake, but as she pulled it out, fumbled slightly.

The vampire knocked it out of her hands.

She stared at her bare hands in shock for a moment too long, before his hands were at her throat and he had flipped her over. Her brain reeled, and she tried to kick back up, but he was strangely strong. 

"Hey!" She said, sticking out her lower lip. "_I'm_ the one inflicting pain tonight. I mean…" Before she could even say another word, her head was jarred sideways as a punch landed on her cheekbone. The area flared up with heat, and she tried to wriggle her arm loose. But for a moment, she felt it.

Her strength left her.

Completely! Just like that! She felt the weight of the world crushing her at that moment, and opened her mouth to scream, but she didn't have enough air. What had happened? What the hell was going on?

She looked back up at the vampire, and he grinned. She had never seen something as frightening in her life. 

Panicking, she tried moving her arms, her legs, her body, doing _anything _to rebel against her attackers strength. But she had only the force of a mortal.

Weak.

The vampire growled and dove towards her neck, as she struggled to understand and wriggle free at the same time. But before she could twist away, she felt the frightening scrape of teeth against her throat. Terrified, a scream erupted from her lips, expelling the rest of her air. 

Just as the vampire exploded into dust.

The oxygen came rushing back into her lungs with a whoosh, and she hastily gulped it in as though there was no tomorrow. Her limbs began tingling with blood, and the anxious pit in her stomach began to slowly fill with lead. Her hand scrambled across the grass for a moment, before connecting with the wood of her stake, and she pulled it close in relief. 

She opened her eyes to see Spot Conlon standing over her, with a dark stake clutched in his pale fingers.

"You said something about coming to you if I needed to talk?" He asked, quirking an eyebrow. 

Chaos stared intently at her casserole, lying rejected on her plate. Somehow, Racetrack had managed to snag a seat next to her, and it had to be the most awkward meal she had ever sat through. Neither had touched their dinner, even though the rest of the student body had decided that garbage was better than no food at all. 

"So." He said tentatively. She said nothing, only concentrated on a strange, random noodle sticking out from the rest of the muck. "I was thinking…there's a new movie out…playing down at the Famous Player's and I was wondering if…"

"Busy." She said quickly. For lack of better things to do, she dug a fork into her casserole and studied it intently. Racetrack winced, hurt.

"I didn't even mention a time." He protested.

"Still busy." She replied meaningfully. 

"Just gimme a chance." She turned and looked up into pleading brown eyes, brown eyes that seemed so velvety and comfortable. So close. "You don't even _know _me, Chaos." 

She sneered.

"And you don't know me either. There ain't no point in you asking me out to the movies when you don't even _know me_. Now, if you'll _please_…" She trailed off, unsure of what insult to throw next. Fact was, she was having a hard time doing so. Never had someone looked at her with that much concern.

She shoved the fork into her mouth and tried not to gag.

"Oh god! Oh god!" Shade murmured, lying on the ground, staring up at the stars. "Oh god! Oh god! Oh god!" Spot shoved the stake into his belt and waited patiently. "Oh god! Oh god! Oh…" She glanced over at him, then shut her eyes. "Oh _god_! Did you see what just _happened_?"

"Yeah. I just staked one of my own men, _thanks_." He replied sullenly. Shade pushed herself up, eyes wide.

"It was weird! I lost my strength! It just…disappeared! Like that!" Spot's eyes grew vague and he shifted uncomfortably. "Oh god! It was so…so creepy! You…" She looked up at him with even wider eyes. "You saved my life!"

"Oh please…" he groaned, glancing away. 

"Oh god! You…wait till I tell Misprint!" He winced at the mention of her name, but remained solid.

"Look. You gonna sit there all night?" He asked impatiently. Frowning, she pushed herself to her feet, and was surprised to find her limbs watery and shaky.

"I can't believe it." She murmured, almost close to tears. "Now what am I gonna do? I don't have…do…have…Spot!" She looked up at him and, before he could react, crossed the distance in two short strides and slammed him across the face.

Stunned, he stumbled backwards, clutching his jaw. His eyes blazed with fury and he turned back to glare at her, but she was looking at her fist in ecstasy, nearly jumping up and down.

"I got it back!" She squealed happily. "I'm strong again!"

"Glad to hear it." Spot mumbled grumpily.

"What…" She glanced down at the pile of ashes at her feet. "What _was_ that?"

"You'll probably find out sooner or later." He remarked bitterly. "You and that Scooby gang of yours…" The only time he remembered being slammed with such intensity was when Misprint hit him. Maybe Shade wasn't the _best _councillor in a time like this, but frankly, she was the only one who would really understand. As much as he detested going to her.

He detested all of it.

At least it wasn't as bad as it used to be, but he didn't like to think about before. All he remembered was random phrases, random flashes of pain. Flashes of _emotion_. It sickened him.

Shade caught the bitter tone in his voice and looked up. He sounded _hurt_. But Spot upset was…well…impossible. Vampires just didn't.

Not that she knew of.

"Sorry." She said quickly, glancing at his jaw. "I just needed to see. I don't know _how_ I coulda slipped up." Spot gave a mysterious smirk. Shade raised an eyebrow, but chose to ignore it. "Anyways. You were saying something about talkin'?"

"Well…more like I need you to tell Mis something." He said, dropping his hand from his jaw and shoving both in his pockets. Embarrassment was also a fairly new sensation, and he didn't like it. At all. Shade scoffed quite audibly and rolled her eyes.

"Oh. So that's it? I'm your messenger?" She asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"Well, I don't wanna burn to death. Like Rex." Spot replied. Shade's brows furrowed, but he shrugged, cutting her off. "Or find myself on the wrong end of a stake. Your slayers are doing quite a job of keeping Slade's minions away." He stared up into the stars, contemplating. "I guess I could go talk to her…" He admitted, but all of a sudden, he found he was staring down the length of a stake. Shade was holding it up to him, almost like a gun, her features almost narrowed.

"You are _not_ going to see Misprint." She said firmly. He raised an eyebrow.

"I'm not?"

"You're _not_. You realize what that goil will _do_ to you?" she paused, and blinked. "Or what she _won't _do to you. More like what you'll do to her."

"Hey." His expression darkened, making a small trill of fear flow through her veins. "Things are different now."

"How different?" She asked, quirking an eyebrow. He sighed, his eyes trained on her own. There was a small silence.

"Very." He said clearly. He looked her up and down, before pushing the stake aside and moving an inch closer. "You tell her that for me?" He asked. Shade wrinkled her nose. Talking with this guy, and maybe throwing in some good ridicule, would be satisfactory. Getting Misprint involved would _not_ be. The last thing she wanted to do was ruin her friends fragile happiness with another episode with Spot. He caught the hesitant look in her eyes and grabbed the collar of her shirt. She froze, slightly panicky, wondering if her strength would hold. "Will you tell her that?" He demanded.

"Hold your horses, Conlon." She protested, shaking herself free, glad she was still able to do so. It must be all the slaying. Taking a toll on her body. She wanted to get back to the dorms…get some rest… "I'll tell her." She wasn't sure if she was lying or not. "But mark my woids. You come near her, and _different_ or _not…_you will be dust." 

"I ain't gonna hoit her." He said quietly.

"Yeah. An' I'm Kris Kringle. Listen, she's _happy_ now. She's got her fire, her friends, and her life. _Pain free_, might I add…"

"Shade." He pleaded. She paused, and made the mistake of looking into his eyes. She was stunned by what she saw there.

Pain. Real veritable _pain_. Spot Conlon was upset, very upset indeed. She had never seen him look so downtrodden before, so utterly wretched. What was it about? Could it be about…about Misprint?

"I'll tell her." She said again. But it was just a repetition. Spot nodded, then shook his head slightly. He rested a hand on her shoulder and looked up into her own eyes, wincing slightly.

"I'm sorry about Jack." He said simply. With that, he turned on his heel and made for the entrance.

The words burned in Shade's mind. _I'm sorry about Jack_. What about Jack? What did he do to Jack?

"What? Wait!" She ran after him and grasped the back of his collar, staying him. "What'd you say?"

"I'm sorry about Jack." He repeated softly. Her grip tightened.

"What did you do? You didn't do anything! There ain't nothing wrong with Jack!"

"There ain't?" He asked softly, still facing away. "Maybe you should look a little closer." Before she could so much as take in breath to reply, he disappeared, dissolving from underneath her very fingertips, leaving her alone with some very confusing thoughts indeed.

A light rain began to fall as Jack met up with Shade outside Madison Square Gardens. She was looking pale and slightly shaken, but he didn't want to chisel at her pride by insinuating that she might have had trouble with a couple fledglings.

"Ready to head back?" he asked, glancing up at the sky. She nodded silently, and then did something very strange, or at least Jack thought so. She took his shoulders and stared intensely at his face, her eyes wandering over every inch of his skin. Then, her gaze swept up and down his body, as though she was looking for something. He felt as though she was trying to sift through the secrets in his head. Uncomfortable, he shook her hands away.

"What?" he asked, trying to grin. She shook her head slightly and forced a smile as well.

"Nothing." She assured him. Quiet, she fixed her stake at her belt and took his hand, just as the rain turned into an all out downpour. 

Gemini and Mondie were awake again.

Undermining the rules was not something new, or even strange to them. It almost seemed natural to turn on the light after Ms. Mayen had come by to check how they were all doing. None of them were ever tired.

Mondie was seeing if it was possible to clip her ears to her head, but her eyes were already watering in pain, and she was wincing and whimpering every other five seconds. Gemini was brushing out her long curls, building up so much static electricity that some strands were sticking straight out, making Mondie want to giggle, if she wasn't in so much pain. Both were bored out of their minds, but it was obvious that sleeping wouldn't help. 

Like the night before, they were too restless. The feeling that something was not right just wouldn't go away, leaving them both rather cantankerous and bitter at nothing impaticular. 

Gemini glanced out the window as a few drops of rain began falling on the pane, and winced.

"Poor Shade." She said sympathetically. Mondie glanced up, after successfully managing to flatten one ear against her head.

"What?"

"It's prolly gonna pour."

"Yeah." Mondie grinned. "But she's got Jack to keep her warm." The minute the word "Jack" left her lips, both girls looked up at one another. Their eyes met, and something flashed between them, something they didn't quite catch before it disappeared. Hastily, Mondie began clipping her other ear to her hair, and Gemini began pushing her own curls into a complicated looking version of a twist. They both were silent.

"That's it, isn't it?" Mondie finally asked, tentatively.

"What?"

"Jack. He's what's wrong, ain't he?"

Gemini shrugged, unwilling to let on how scared she suddenly was. 

"I'm sure Jack's fine." She said in an unconvincing tone. Mondie stared at her for a moment, before shrugging.

"Yeah. I guess…" The slight tilt of her head caused her ears to suddenly snap up, sending the clips flying across the room. She watched them hit the wall and bounce onto the ground, then shook her head mournfully. "You gotta be kidding me…" She muttered.

"Shh!" Gemini suddenly ordered, freezing in the middle of her twist, elbows awkwardly sticking out. Mondie froze too, her heart tightening slightly at the urgency in Gemini's voice. Both girls paused, straining their ears. Then, the sound came again.

A strange scratching at the window.

Both girl's heads whipped around, and they stared at the window. A straggled clump of something was sitting on the pane, batting a paw at the glass, mewling a pitiful voice that was nearly drowned out by the sudden onslaught of rain that drummed against the bricks…

"A _kitty_!" Mondie squealed suddenly, clapping her hands together. Gemini glanced at her with a raised eyebrow. How she had been able to figure out it was a kitten from where she was sitting, it was a mystery. She wasn't even quite sure if it had been a rat or a squirrel, but a closer look at it proved Mondie was right. She began picking out the bright blue eyes, the miffed, indignant expression, and the stubby, triangular ears poking out from atop its head.

"The poor thing must be soaked." Gemini exclaimed, walking to the window and turning the latch. She struggled with it for a few minutes, before managing to jar it open with a great scraping noise. The kitten mewed thankfully and then, in one jerky motion as only kittens can manage, leapt from the sill right onto Mondie's lap, who squealed again.

"It's so cute! Awww…look at those little ears! Like mine!" She giggled as the kitten gave a particularly disdainful look at this show of affection, and tried to being smoothing down its wet, ruffled fur. Gemini grinned as she shut the window to keep out the wind.

"Looks kinda like you, Monds." She remarked wryly. Mondie gave her a quick glare, but it was undeniable. The two had the same colour eyes, the vibrant blue, and the dark, gleaming brown coloured hair, or in the kitten's case, fur. Mostly to divert the giggles that Gemini was succumbing to, Mondie wrinkled her nose slightly as it turned a full circle on her lap before settling down.

"It's still kinda wet." She remarked flatly, as the moisture soaked through her pyjama pants. Gemini, still sniggering, went on her way to the washroom.

"I'll get a towel or something." She told her. Mondie picked up the cat under the arms and held it aloft in front of her face. The kitten glowered at her, miffed at being disturbed. Their blue eyes gazed steadily into one anthers.

"You're so _cute._" Mondie crooned, bringing the kitten towards her face and touching its nose to her own. The kitten winced and batted a paw at her face, making her pull it back hastily. "And feisty. Jeez." 

A sudden strangled cry from the bathroom made her hastily drop the kitten onto her lap again. There was a large thump, as though something was hitting the floor, then an eerie silence, too still to be natural. Mondie swallowed nervously.

"Gemini? Are you okay?"

There was no reply, not even the sound of breathing. Mondie jumped to her feet, spilling the kitten onto the ground in a tangle of legs and fur. "_Gemini_?"

No answer. Fearing the worst, although not quite sure how it came about, she quickly padded to the bathroom, brushing her hair out of her eyes and holding her breath.

The sight that met her eyes made her pulse began racing in her wrists, and her jaw drop slightly. Gemini was lying on the cold bathroom tile, her hair scattered around her head, long since loosened from the confines of her twist. Her face was as pale as snow, towel bunched against her stomach, and she looked so utterly weak and defeated, it was frightening.

The kitten skittered to Mondie's side and let out a mournful howl.

"'Ow's 'e doin'?" Jordan, a tough vampire with a heavy cockney accent asked Rosie hesitantly, as she slid down from Spot's lair. Rosie rolled her eyes.

"The same. Sooner or later he's going to start listening to "When Doves Cry". Probably write some bad poetry, too." 

"Aw, fa pate's sake." Jordan groaned, pushing her dark hair out of her eyes. "When in 'ell's 'e gonna get ova it?"

"Could take a while." Rosie predicted grimly. "Can't help thinking that he'd be much better off without her, huh?"

"Bloody roight…" Jordan replied darkly. Rose smiled wishfully.

"Wouldn't it be nice to get rid of her once and for all?" 

Misprint couldn't sleep.

It wasn't as though a strange set of worries was keeping here awake. Or pain. Or guilt. There wasn't even any snoring or mid-dream whimpers from the next room to contend with. Just solid, agreeable, _peaceful_ silence.

So why was it she had spent half the night staring, wide eyed, at the ceiling?

A gentle patter of rain began to fall, pleasantly drumming against the windows and the ancient brick of the dorm. She smiled slightly at the musical backdrop, and burrowed deeper into her covers. Moments like this dredged up the memories of _home_ and _family_, no longer as a painful reminder of the orphan she was, but warm, sweet feeling recollections that made her feel comforted. She wondered how Shade was getting on, out slaying in this downpour. It probably wouldn't bother her friend. For all her randomness in conversation and every day life, she was extremely focused while slaying. 

As nice as it was to just lie there, and not have to be or think anything, she hated it. She knew she was going to be a zombie in the morning, and it would just make it all the more difficult to concentrate in school, and keep a civil tongue in her head while speaking with her friends. Not to mention the fact that sleep had been something she had been lacking for nearly half the school year, and she needed to catch up on it. As though mother nature was intent on ruining her rest, the "gentle patter" became an "all out downpour", and she found it didn't really sound like a musical backdrop. It sounded like she was trying to sleep behind a waterfall.

She groaned and rolled onto her back, wondering how effective burying her head under the pillow would be. She was contemplating ear plugs, when she first heard it.

The groan of the window opening.

Immediately, she shot up, clutching the blanket nearly to her throat, eyes wide in the darkness. Through the shadows, she could make out the form of the window, slowly being pulled open, and steadily, as though it had a hand to guide it. She shut her eyes tight and pleaded. Spot wouldn't come back. He wouldn't _dare_. Not after what he had done to Stephen. But that had been near two months ago. What if he _was_ back? What would she do? What _could _she do?

When she opened her eyes again, the window was simply a crack open, not large enough for anyone to squeeze through, vampire or no. She watched it for half a minute, wondering if it was going to suddenly spring open and a dark, evil form would appear in the center of her dorm room, but nothing happened. The window remained solitary, and she remained a girl, alone in her room, starting to feel quite silly.

__

Wind, she thought with a sigh of relief, remembering how, in earlier years, if the wind was strong enough, it managed to suck the window open. _Thank God. I thought it was…_She wouldn't allow her mind any further. Reluctant to leave the warmth of her covers, she swung her feet down to the floor and padded across the dorm room, through the piles of laundry, papers, and candy wrappers, and firmly shut the window, muffling the howling wind and the raindrops, but not by much. With a sudden bout of fear, she slid the latch firmly in place and wiggled it back and forth a few times, to make sure it couldn't be opened unless by an excess amount of force. 

Still a little jumpy, she picked her way through the junk back to her mattress and flopped down on it, feeling the springs push her back up. Even though her eyes were itchy with exhaustion, and her limbs felt nearly dead, she found she was staring up at the ceiling, as though in fear.

She forced her eyes shut and mentally scoffed at herself. _Jesus Christ, _she thought, pulling the covers up past her chest and trying to relax. _A few sounds at the window, and you're awake for the rest of the…_

"Gotcha."

Her eyes snapped open as her powers left her.

Just like that. As though someone had flicked a switch, she felt them blaze through her veins and shoot out from her fingertips, faster than blood through a wound. The warm, safe feeling she had got used to in her soul suddenly blew out, extinguished. She moaned as a burning line drew its way down her throat, and seared through the skin, as though someone had taken a red hot pin and slit a line down her neck. But there was no line, no wound, no blood. Her moan strangled off half way, and she felt her hands jarred off her stomach and pressed to the mattress on either side. And above her glittered a pair of eyes…

She opened her mouth to scream, but before a sound could leave her lips, she was flipped over onto her front, and her hands were wrenched onto her lower back. Her breath heated the pillow under her lips, and she struggled against the strong hands that held her, kicking out her feet and trying to squirm out from underneath. Her attacker laughed in scornful admiration and secured a tight chain around her wrists. She tried to shoot flames out at him, but it was just as she suspected. Only weak sparks flew from her fingers, not even hot enough to burn a hole in the blanket.

"Chaos!" She tried to scream. "Shade! Gem! Mondie! _Anybody_!" But strangely, no sound left her. Just clouds of air that were muffled in the pillows. Her brows furrowed into the cloth, and she tried to shout, but nothing happened.

"Screaming won't help you now." A hoarse voice above her whispered. "Nothing will."

"Lemme go!" She tried to yell, but it only came out as a whisper. Her ankles were forced together, and bound as well. Her attacker laughed again. She felt her eyes water in pain as the chains cut into her wrists, but before she could so much as roll over, a splintering pain cut across the back of her head and, from out of no where, blackness rushed up and consumed her. 

"Shit." Mondie whispered. Gemini didn't move, her chest hardly rose and fell under the weight of breath. Mondie's heart pounded as she sped over to her friend and knelt by her side. "Gemini? Gem! Wake up! S'me, Mondie!" The only response was Gemini's fingers twitching slightly. Mondie felt a plague of panic surge up inside her and, desperately, she tried shaking her friends shoulders. "Gemini! Can you hear me? Wake up! _Wake up!_"

This method, however, proved a failure. Gemini wasn't waking up. Her face was still the same, near china white, and her eyes were firmly closed. The kitten was bent on raising hell, still howling, bouncing around on its stubby, furry legs. Mondie glared at it. 

"Shh! Be _quiet_! We aren't allowed to have pets at Saint Mary's!" She admonished it. It gave her a look that clearly meant; "And I care why?" but obediently dropped its howls to frequent, whining mewls as it darted around Gemini. Mondie felt like doing the same. She struggled to her feet, turned on the tap, and cupped her hands under the cool jet of water that burst from the faucet. Trembling, she turned and splashed it all over her friends face. Gemini's brows furrowed slightly and a small groan escaped her lips, but her eyes never so much as flickered. Mondie winced and grabbed the towel, then used it to mop the water from her friends skin. "Gemini?" She pleaded softly. "Wake up! _Wake up_! Can you hear me? It's me, Mondie! Wake up!"

After a few moments, she sighed, resigned to the fact that no pleading was going to wake her friend. The only thing left to do was call the school nurse, falling backwards and hitting her head like that probably wasn't the healthiest thing to happen to her friend. But how was she going to explain her friend out cold on the bathroom floor? It's hard to slip on dry tile, and even harder to trip and fall _backwards_. 

To be honest, Mondie had no idea how it happened. The cry she heard didn't sound as though she had fallen, it sounded as though she had been _pushed_. But what on earth could push her in a bathroom?

The kitten had dropped the mewling and was hissing upwards, as though there was something on the ceiling. Mondie scanned the space above her, but nothing was apparent. She turned to the kitten, again, with a small frown.

"I _said_ be quiet." She admonished, feeling silly talking to a stray cat. "If any of the other girls hear, we're in huge trouble." She rose to her feet and stared at Gemini once more, before turning towards the doorway, setting her sights on the phone. "And when the nurse arrives, you can't make any noise. Whatsoever."

"Okay."

"Good." Mondie nodded righteously, and walked as calmly as she could towards the phone. She placed her hand on the receiver, but before she could even pick it up, it let out a loud, metallic sounding ring. She jumped a mile, and the kitten let out a yowl of surprise. She glared at it once more, heard the ring again, and anxiously picked it up.

"Hello? Amanda speakin'." She said softly.

"Mondie? S'me, Shade!"

"Shade! What's the matter, why are you calling?"

"S'a bit of an emergency." Her voice sounded panicked, but muffled, as though she was trying to keep it calm, so as not to worry the other girl. "Is Misprint over there with you two?"

"Misprint?" Mondie was temporarily thrown off track. "Why would she be here with us?"

"Mondie, you gotta tell me!_ Is she?_?"

"No." Mondie said quickly. "I haven't her since dinner time. Is she missing?"

"Well yeah." Shade sounded aggravated. There was a slight pause on the other side, and Mondie furrowed her brows. "I just got back from slaying, and there's…there's blood…on her pillow…"

"Blood?" Mondie felt her heart knock against the walls of her rib cage. "But…she can't be hurt or anything. If anything got near her, she'd just fry it! Wouldn't she?"

"I sure hope so." Shade said softly. The tinny sound of her clearing her throat was heard, as though to clear away the dread. "I gotta call Chaos. And Race. Maybe Mush and Blink. Y'know, jus' to see if she's…visiting or something…"

"Get Specs." Mondie advised her. There was a low sounding moan from the bathroom, and she glanced over to the lighted room with anxiety in her eyes. "And tell him that something's wrong with Gemini as well."

"Gemini? What's the matter with her?" Shade asked.

"I dunno." Mondie replied, her voice trembling. "I really don't know. I'll find out what happens when she wakes up…"

"Wakes up?" Shade demanded.

"I gotta call the nurse!." Mondie said hastily. "I can't talk!"

"A'right, I'll get Specs." Shade replied. "Call me when you want him sent over."

"Alright. Thanks."

"No problem."

The girls said their goodbyes, and Mondie hung up the phone. It must be told, she stood there for a moment, eyes turned inward, thinking things over. Blood near Misprint's bed, and Gemini out cold in the washroom. Was anything else happening somewhere else in the school? Something they didn't know about?

Mondie didn't want to bring up the subject of Spot on the phone, but it was quite plausible. But what did he want with _Gemini_? What had _happened_ to Gemini?

"Specs'll know." She said out loud, almost as though to reassure herself. "He knows everything about this kind of stuff."

"You put too much dependence in the bloke."

"Well who else can I depend on?" Mondie snapped. 

"Maybe it's time you started taking things into your own paws, luv."

"My plate's full enough as it is!"

"She's waking up."

Mondie spun around, as another moan emanated from the bathroom. She hurried inside to find Gemini stirring, the kitten sitting calmly at her side, staring up at Mondie with those innocent blue eyes.

"Thought you might want to know." It said calmly.

Mondie stared at it, frozen in the doorway. It cocked its head to one side, as if to question her hesitation. "Come on, then." It said, in a sprawling British accent. "You want to find out what happened, don't you?"

"I guess." Mondie said uncertainly. The kitten rolled its eyes and looked pointedly at Gemini. Mondie shook her head slightly as she walked inside and sat down next to Gemini.

"I gotta be dreaming." She mumbled under her breath, just as Gemini's eyes shot open.

She took in her surroundings as though she had never seen them before. Her eyes travelled over the ceiling, the walls, the patterned tile, the innocent looking kitten, the bath tub, and then, finally, to Mondie. She blinked, as though in surprise, and then her eyes came to life in a rush of remembrance.

"Oh…" She breathed. "Is it still here? Where'd it go"

"Where'd what go?" Mondie asked in confusion. Gemini sat up, her curls frothing around her face. She whipped her head around to stare into the dorm. 

"What if it's in the bedroom?"

"What?"

"That…big ass misty thing."

"That what?" Mondie turned her friends head in her direction. "Gem, you aren't making sense." Gemini disregarded this and then, akin to the kitten, she looked up, scanning the space above her. Mondie glanced up again, but there was still nothing. 

"It came from up there." Gemini said decisively.

"_What_ did?" Mondie asked, tired of the game.

"The big ass misty thing!" Gemini replied, just as aggravated as her friend. "_That's_ where it was when I first saw it!"

"Gemini, what happened?" Mondie pleaded. "Jus' tell me!"

Gemini looked over at her, then up again, as though she was skittish, anxious it might appear again. "A'right, it don't make sense though. Maybe I just haven't been getting enough sleep…" She glanced down at the kitten, who was still rather damp, but staring up at her quite calmly. "I walked in here to get a towel…" Her eyes flicked to the crumpled cloth at her side. "And I had it in my hand, when my amulet started to glow. I looked up, and saw that thing hovering at the ceiling."

"That big ass misty thing?" Mondie asked, not meaning to sound as sceptical as she did. Gemini nodded stubbornly.

"It looked like some kind of rain cloud…but blacker…and I could see through it." She explained brokenly. "I just…I just kinda froze. Then, suddenly, it came rushing down towards me, like it was gonna hit me. But it didn't, it just kinda…went right through me." She gave an involuntary shudder, and it suddenly seemed to Mondie that the bathroom got a lot colder. "It made my brain stop workin', made my muscles go all slack an' weird. But before I went out, I got this really weird feeling all over, like…my blood was leaving my fingers, or…or my powers…" She suddenly sat up straight and let out a yell so loud that Mondie fell backwards and the kitten's claws scratched at the tile. "My powers! Mondie…" Quickly, she held up a hand and concentrated with all her might, something Specs had taught her to do. She felt the blood rush through her body and the slight tingle of electricity through her fingers, but all she was able to do was produce a tiny glowing ball of energy, not even large enough to do the damage of a fire fly. She looked up at Mondie in a panic. "They're gone! That big ass misty thing _took my powers_!"

"But what was it?" Mondie persisted, staring as the ball of energy fizzled into nothing, and Gemini pushed the same hand through her hair to get it out of her face. 

"I don't _know_! It…dark energy or something? Specs was telling me about…" She scrunched up her face, as though it would help her remember. "Dark energy from a dark source…it…ah, _why_ don't I pay attention in lessons?" She wailed. Mondie comfortingly put a hand on her friends shoulder.

"Hey, don't worry." She said reassuringly. "Shade's got Specs on the line right now. We'll call her and get him over here. Whatever it was can't have taken your powers for long. I mean…they aren't like material possessions that can be stolen, are they?"

"Hope not." Gemini said, devoid of hope. She had never had the need to use her powers in defence as of yet, but she felt extremely vulnerable without them. An emptiness had taken over her body, where there once was effulgence. "What's Specs gonna do?"

"I dunno. Probably go over to Shade's …" She remembered suddenly. "Misprint's missing. Shade came home and found blood on her pillow."

"Misprint's missin'?" Gemini asked, aggravated. "_Again_?"

"This time Shade really thinks she might be in trouble." Mondie explained, helping her friend to her feet. Gemini stood shakily on her legs, which were still trying to get back in the habit of working again. "Misprint just wouldn't be off at…" She was about to say "Stephens" but corrected herself immediately. "Racetrack's or something without telling anybody." Gemini gave her a look that clearly meant "Yes she would," But said nothing. 

"Oh it's serious, I can assure you." The kitten told her. Mondie stared down at it with furrowed brows and wide eyes, but it looked rather mild, almost amused at the attention it was getting. Gemini didn't even glance at it, but held her head and moaned.

"Ah jeez, I didn't have to hit my head so hard." She complained. Mondie glanced once more at the kitten, before helping her friend into the bedroom. The kitten rolled its eyes and trotted along, calmly behind them.

"You sit down." Mondie said to Gemini, her voice trembling. "I'll call Shade and ask for Specs. I don't think any of us are getting any sleep tonight."

Shade rushed to the door when the knock sounded and opened it immediately. True to her suspicion, Specs was standing there, hair sticking almost straight up, glasses nearly falling off his nose. He pushed them back up with his finger and walked in. She shut the door quickly behind him, hoping his arrival hadn't been noticed.

"I came the minute we hung up." He informed her, scanning Misprint's bed. His face contorted at the sight of the pillow. The striped case had been stained with an eerie blossom of blood, and there were a few stains on the carpet around it. There were also a blotch of red on a lamp, which was lying on the floor, the shade half off, and the bulb shattered.

"Jesus Christ, what happened?"

"That's what I wanna know." Shade replied, having a hard time keeping the swells of panic at bay. First the near death incident at the graveyard, then the realisation of how strange Jack was acting, then _this._ It was too much for her to take in one night, after months of peace. "She wasn't here when I came in, this is all I saw."

"Does Jack know?"

Shade sighed. Under usual circumstances, Jack would have been the first she would have informed. But things were different.

"No." Specs gave her a strange glance from under his glasses, but said nothing. "I didn't tell 'im. Yet." She said, to deflect suspicion. "But I phoned up Mondie and Gemini. They haven't seen here. Same with Bumlets and Dutchy and Chaos and Racetrack and Mush…"

"Shade." Specs said wearily. "This doesn't look as though Misprint was out _visitin'_."

"I know." Shade replied sheepishly, feeling rather stupid. "But I just wanted to make _sure_…" Nodding, as though he understood, Specs sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"Well, there ain't much we can do, except hold a city search." Shade's brows furrowed at the strange terminology, but kept her mouth shut. "But I don't understand. If Misprint was in trouble, why didn't she defend herself?"

"Maybe it was Spot." Shade suggested bitterly. "She's never defended herself against _him_." 

There was a silence at this. Specs eyes were turned inward as he studied the bed, thoughts racing through his mind, and Shade was trying to make sense of what was going on. For one, from the talk she had held with Spot in the graveyard, it didn't _seem_ as though he would be up and hurting Misprint the very same night. Well, he _seemed _to be pretty hung up over something. But then again, he _seemed_ that way. She wouldn't put Spot Conlon past deceiving somebody to get his way.

"Well, whoever it was, hopefully they're still in New York." Specs said finally. "I'll call Gemini. She can probably do a search for Misprint from her own dorm."

"Good idea." Shade said. She grabbed a coat and threw it over her clothes. "I'll go get Chaos and the rest of the slayers. We may need them. Oh," She remembered something suddenly. "Something's wrong with Gemini too. Mondie told me."

"Well, thanks for the up-to-the-minute news." Specs replied cheerfully. Shade sent him a glare that he didn't quite see, as he was already dialling in the number. Rolling her eyes, she turned and left the dorm. 


	20. twenty

****

Chapter Twenty

"Chaos. Chaos, wake up."

"Fuck you."

"Chaos! Comon, official slayer business."

"Go 'way."

"_Chaos_!" 

"A'right, a'right, I'm up already." The groggy eyed girl rolled over, and stared blearily up at the source of disturbance. Shade stood over her, hair falling out of her trademark braid, looking as worried as all get out. Chaos's brow wrinkled. "What's the matter?"

"Misprint's gone missing." She said, taking the girls covers in her hands and throwing them to the foot of the bed. Chaos cried out and curled up into a little ball. "Chaos! Get _up_."

"Misprint's fine." Chaos murmured into her knees. "She's a fucking fire elemental…"

"Yeah, well if she's _fine,_ why is there _blood on her fucking pillow?_"

At this, Chaos looked sufficiently interested. At least, her eyes weren't so squinty as they were before when she looked up at her co-slayer. "There is? Why?"

"We don't _know_." Shade said in aggravation. "But we're gonna find out."

"Great." Chaos muttered. She uncurled and swung her feet down onto the floor. She straightened her long, dark night shirt and grabbed a pair of black jeans off the floor. "Just when I thought I could finally get some peace and quiet…"

"Don't gimme that." Shade snapped, tossing her a dark sweatshirt. "Just head over to my dorm. Specs is there, he's gonna get Gemini to find Mis."

"Roger." Chaos said, sounding a little more awake. She glanced edgily at Shade, then pulled the sweatshirt on. It was on the tip of her tongue to suggest Spot, but she did have _some_ sense of tact, whether apparent or not. Shade, almost as though reading her mind, whirled around and made for the door.

"Bring the usual gear." She told her. "And get the boys." 

"Oh yeah, I'll just pop over." Chaos grumbled sarcastically. Shade gave her one last glare before stalking into the hallway. Chaos rolled her eyes as she quickly pulled her hair back into a pony tail and grabbed her stake off the dresser. Just in case, she also took a small vial of holy water and her necklace, which held a single silver cross on it. With a quick shove, she pushed the stake into her pocket, and left the dorm.

It was apparent Ms. Mayen was dead asleep. But Chaos didn't want to take her chances. She crept, as stealthily as she could, past the door that led to her chambers, avoiding all the creaking boards and monitoring her breathing to almost inaudible levels. Never mind Spot, Ms. Mayen was a disaster waiting to happen.

She allowed herself to breathe again when out in the fresh air. The cold snap that winter had brought still hadn't broken, and the air was chilly. She shuddered, even through the sweatshirt, and made for the fire escape. It would be easier than sneaking past Kloppman, who, even though he was hard of hearing, always seemed to be in the right place at the right time to prevent such happenings. Usually he was slack, despite his prickly exterior, but she knew midnight visits would definitely not be permitted. Not even by him.

The fire escape rattled as she jumped up and grabbed hold of the ladder, and she cursed under her breath, before slowly ascending the rickety stair case, hoping it wouldn't wake any of the boys. She counted floors as she went up.

"Second…" She whispered under her breath. "Third…fourth…here we go." Glancing around to make sure there was no one out on the grounds, she bent over and began working at the window.

It slid open quite easily, and she breathed a sigh of relief. At least _that_ was going her way, if nothing else would. Glancing around once more, and setting her sights on getting this done as quickly as possible, she slid inside.

The first thing she registered was that the surface she landed on was much too far up to be the ground. The second was that it was too _lumpy _to be the ground. The third was that it squirmed the minute she put her full weight on it.

"Jesus!" She yelled, as something under her swung violently, and she fell forwards. Her head hit something hard and she groaned. Strangely, it did too.

"What the hell is going on?" A familiar voice demanded. She froze, cat eyes wide, as her sights adjusted to the darkness. "Mis? Is that you again?"

"Racetrack?"

"_Chaos_?"

A light flared, and Chaos squinted. Racetrack was lying half over the covers, wearing a long black shirt and boxers, hand on the lamp switch beside his bed. His hair looked as though he had been standing in the middle of a hurricane, and his eyes were squinty and aggravated, yet at the same time, looked nervous and sort of pleased. Chaos stiffened. She was lying on top of him.

Hurriedly, she rolled off and managed to turn off the bed and land on the floor, staring up at the ceiling with a huge thump, that felt as though it would awake every boy in the building. Dutchy was sitting up and fumbling for his glasses on his bedside table. Racetrack rolled onto his side, looking down at Chaos in shock. Chaos was trying her best not to blush, staring, with a great deal of determination, up at the ceiling.

"What are you doing here?" He asked in disbelief. 

"Getting Dutchy." She replied simply. 

"At _midnight_?" He asked, furrowing his brows.

"Yep." She said nonchalantly. Racetrack raised on eyebrow, then hastily kicked the covers off and got out of bed. 

"Here." He said, sliding a hand under her shoulders and pushing her up slightly. He held out his other hand for her to take, but she sat up quickly and ignored the offer.

"Thanks, I'm good." She said hastily.

"That was a bit of a fall. And you gotta bruise on your forehead!" He reached out, and brushed the spot slightly with his fingertips. Chaos jerked away.

"I'm fine. I meant to do that anyways." She snapped. 

"Chaos? Race? What's going on?" Dutchy had managed to get his glasses on without injury, and was staring at the two of them in bewilderment.

"Dutchy!" Chaos replied, jumping to her feet, glad the conversation was over. She rushed over and stood awkwardly by the side of his bed. "We got trouble. Ah…" She glanced edgily at Racetrack and lowered her voice. Racetrack pushed himself to his feet and glanced jealously at the both of them, before sitting down on the mattress and trying not to let his shoulders slump. "Misprint's missing." She whispered. Dutchy's brows pulled inwards. "Specs is getting Gem to do a search. We need all the slayers on call."

"A'right." Dutchy whispered. "You go get Bumlets an' Jack. I'll catch up later."

"Sure." She glanced at Racetrack again, and made her voice even lower. "Don't let Race in on it."

"Whaddaya think I am?" Dutchy hissed. Chaos gave him a look, and then stepped back slightly. Looking once more at Racetrack, she turned, opened the door, and darted out into the hallway, shutting it softly behind her. Dutchy grabbed a tee shirt and pulled it on, then started scanning the floor for a pair of jeans.

"What was that all about?" Racetrack asked in bewilderment. Dutchy glanced up at him edgily, and hurriedly pulled one of the drawers in his dresser open.

"Nothing." He mumbled, hoping the majority of his words were muffled. "Chaos…she can…neurotic…she can get that way…"

"What?" Racetrack's raised an eyebrow.

"Oh. You know." Dutchy tried to grin, but his voice sounded much too high to be natural. "Chaos. Jus'…Chaos."

Racetrack stared at him suspiciously as he pulled his jeans on and grabbed a belt from atop the dresser.

"You're a horrible liar, Dutchy." he said firmly. Dutchy ignored him. "Where you goin'?" He asked warily. Dutchy mumbled something else as he slid the belt through the loops. Then, glancing once more up at his room mate, he grabbed a back pack from beside the dresser and threw it on over his shoulders. "Dutchy? Where you goin'?"

"Out. Gotta go. See ya. Don't tell Kloppman." The door had already shut by the time he was finished. Racetrack scratched at his curls in bewilderment, and sighed. It seemed he was always left out.

"What?" Specs exclaimed, louder than was good for the both of them. Shade hastily quieted him with an insistent tap on his shoulder. He glanced at her once before continuing. "What do you _mean_ your powers are gone?"

Shade's eyes widened and her forehead wrinkled. Specs glanced at her once more, before speaking again. "A big ass misty thing? Gemini, what are you _on_?"

Shade could hear the loud buzzing on the other line, which meant Gemini was obviously distraught. Specs held the phone away from his ear slightly and wrinkled his nose. The two of them exchanged a look.

"Her powers are gone?" Shade mouthed. "Misty thing?" Specs nodded, and gave a confused shrug. A few seconds later, he pulled the phone back.

"Lissen, Gem, just get over here, alright?" He said firmly. "Chaos is bringing the slayers….surely you can manage a little something…like a search…"

"A _search_?" Even Shade could hear Gemini's indignant explosion. "Are you _kiddin' me_?"

"Gem, work with me here, alright?" He snapped. "Just get over here! Got it?" A few moments later, he nodded. "Good. See you in a sec." With that, he placed the receiver back in its cradle and sighed, massaging his temples. "That girl can get real indignant when he wants to." He muttered.

"Her powers?" Shade asked again. He nodded.

"Gone. I don't know what's going on, she was just rambling away on the other side. And Mondie was adding things in the back ground. And there was this weird howling noise…like a cat…"

"Looks like sleep is futile." Shade muttered, shoving her hands in her pockets. But a moment later, she was pacing, fiddling with her fingers and glancing back and forth at the window. Specs sat down heavily on a chair and watched her for a few minutes. The anxiety that exuded from her body was incredible. They could hear no movement outside anywhere, which might have been a good thing, or a bad one, it was hard to say. Specs shoved his glasses up the bridge of his nose and looked worriedly at his friend.

"You don't gotta be that nervous, you know." He said gently. "I'm sure Misprint's not hurt. Badly." He added with a lack of tact. Shade glared at him.

"Thanks." She replied sarcastically. "That makes me feel a hell of a lot better." 

"Seriously Shade." He reminded her simply. "She _is_ a fire elemental."

"Then what's with _that_?" Shade asked furiously, pointing to the bed. Specs had no answer.

To save him, the door was quietly opened, and a pair of dark, chocolate brown eyes appeared.

"Knock knock." Bumlets said, almost stoically, as he edged the full way in. Chaos followed, then Dutchy, who looked rather worse for wear. His hair was sticking up in all directions, and it looked as though he had rolled out of bed and made his way over. Bumlets, as always, was looking immaculate.

"Hey." Shade replied distractedly. She glanced out the door to make sure no one was awake, then slowly shut it behind her. She turned around and pressed her back against it, watching as the three slayers studied the bed with grave seriousness. She realised something, and her eyebrows furrowed. "Where's Jack?"

Chaos looked up. 

"I dunno." She replied simply. "I thought he was over here."

"Over heah?" Shade asked, pushing herself off the door and exchanging a glance with Specs. "Isn't he at his dorm?"

"Well, obviously not." Chaos replied, cocking her head towards the other two slayers. "Otherwise he'd be with _us_."

"Great. _Jus'_ great." Specs groaned. "Now we got _two_ of us missing…"

"You know Jack." Dutchy shrugged, speaking for the first time. "He's probably just out slaying. You can't stop that boy when he's _got the urge_."

"Why didn't 'e _tell_ me?" Shade demanded, a slight pout coming to her lips. "I'm his slaying partner!" Chaos snorted.

"Jack doesn't answer to anybody." She replied. "Besides, it's obviously a case of spectacular testosterone overdrive…"

"What happened here?" Bumlets asked, interrupting the conversation. Specs sighed.

"We don't know. But that's what we're going to find out." He waited patiently for the run of "why didn't she defend herself?" questions, but thankfully, they didn't come. "But right now, we just have to concentrate on finding her. She could be anywhere in the city right now, and it doesn't look like it's just for a _stroll_. This is real danger."

"You don't say, Sherlock." Chaos replied stoically. "Get Gemini to do a search." 

"She's lost her powers." Specs replied, just as austerely. To save him the explanation, there came a timid knock on the door. 

"Who is it?" Shade asked.

"S'me. Gem. Open up." A voice hissed. She and Specs exchanged a relieved look, and Shade quickly opened the door. Gemini came in, looking rather pale and frightened, brushing the curls out of her face. To their surprise, Mondie followed, looking a little calmer, a tiny kitten clutched in her arms. Specs raised his eyebrow.

"Mondie? What are you doing here?"

"Uh…" Gemini glanced at the kitten and grimaced. "Whenever I tried to leave, that thing howled it's head off."

"She even tried taking it with her." Mondie piped in cheerfully, as though she was at a late night slumber party. "But it still wouldn't shut up. It was only quiet when I came…" She grinned indulgently at it. The rest of them exchanged unsure looks, but shrugged it away. Only Specs was quiet, staring at the kitten, and then Mondie. Gemini caught his silent investigation.

"S'matter?" She asked. He started, then shook his head slightly.

"Nothing. Now, to business…"

"Where is he?" Slade asked, pacing restlessly. Malice sighed, examining her nails listlessly.

"It's gonna take 'im a while." She reminded her leader in a bored voice. "'E's got three slayers, a fire elemental, and a _wicca_ to work with…"

"He's getting paid enough. Can't he have the decency to do it on time?" Slade snapped back. Malice rolled her eyes but said nothing. Even though Slade usually was able to keep his head, he had an infamous temper. She didn't want to invoke it.

The moments that passed seemed to be eternities all on their own. Slade's pacing grew even more edgy, and Malice grew even more aloof as they waited.

Finally, after what seemed like a millennium, there came a few hushed voices from the hall. Slade looked up expectantly, just as the door opened.

A smug face appeared, thick brown hair on top of the head stylishly messy, a slight smirk on the lips.

"_There _you are." Slade said, trying not to sound to aggravated. The boy stepped into full view. He was well built, wearing a greyish blouse and a pair of coarse, dark slacks. He held two crystal balls in his hand. One was filled with a dark red smog that leapt and danced, almost like flames, with flashes of orange and yellow. The other was glowing a deep purple colour.

"And here _they_ are." He said. He tossed the red one to Slade, who deftly caught it. "You might wanna be keeping that one." He said lightly.

"And the witch?" Slade asked, carefully placing the glowing crystal on a nearby table and turning to look at the thief expectantly.

"I think _I_ might want to be keeping that one." He said firmly. Slade stared at him for a moment, and then shrugged, as though it didn't matter. 

"She give you any trouble?" He asked casually.

"You kidding?" The boy replied, raising his eyebrows, as though offended. "None at all. She didn't expect me. None of 'em do." Slade rolled his eyes, he wasn't in the mood to deal with the thief's arrogance. But the boy was past bragging. He was staring at Slade meaningfully, eyebrows even higher. "And you said…"

"Talk to Gouge about it." Slade said dismissively, "She'll meet your needs." The boy nodded, and saluted cockily. As he turned, he gave one last comment over his shoulder.

"The witch is strong. Wouldn't be surprised if this li'l ol' crystal of mine was empty by next week. So make sure you deal with that one quickly. A one night stand sort of thing, y'know?" He gave a rougish grin. "A flame." 

"Take Harlem?" Dutchy muttered under his breath, as he and Chaos climbed out onto the fire escape. Even though there had been a slight break, the rain had started up again, just as hard as ever. In a few minutes, both slayers were soaked and freezing cold. "Harlem? _Harlem_? When we're already burned out?"

"Pipe down." Chaos silenced him. "You wanna get caught? Besides, we can take Harlem. Harlem _doubled_."

"I don't like this." Dutchy moaned, as he and Chaos both took to the stairs. "No one in their right mind goes to Harlem with less than three."

"Who said anything about being in their right mind?" Chaos replied acidly. "Besides. You heard Specs. We have to act quickly. It's not like whoever has Misprint is going to keep her comfortable for us." She exchanged a dark look with her coslayer. "Or alive."

"You got any idea's on what it could be?" Dutchy asked. Chaos shook her head, and her eyes were rather worried. 

"None. It just doesn't make sense."

"You think it was Spot?" Dutchy suggested. Chaos paused, and sighed as she swung down onto the ladder.

"Possible." She replied finally. "In fact, probable. Why shouldn't he? And why shouldn't she?"

"Then why aren't we going to Brooklyn to look around?"

"Maybe he's realized that we're onto him, and decided to change locations."

"But how can we be sure he's in Harlem?"

"We _can't _be sure!" Chaos exploded as she dropped to the ground. Dutchy hastily dropped down beside her. "You think I can read Spec's mind? Besides. The boy isn't stupid. He probably has Gemini searching Brooklyn. Besides," She narrowed her eyes. "All this questioning just sounds like _you_ trying to logic me out of dragging you up to Harlem. Nice try." 

Dutchy was going to reply with something about how Gemini sure didn't look as though she'd be up to a search, but the frustrated look in Chaos's eyes was enough to silence him. Simultaneously, they both pulled out their stakes, turned North, and broke into a jog, feeling the rainwater squelch into their shoes and soak through their socks.

Neither of them noticed the dark figure that stole after them.

"What about Jack?" Shade was saying insistently, as Specs pulled out a few orbs from his pockets and gave them to Gemini. Gemini stared at them for a moment, as though unsure of what to do with them, before getting a meaningful look from Specs, and moving towards the bed. Specs returned his gaze to Shade and studied her worryingly. She looked pale and stressed. 

"I'm sure Jack is fine." He said unconvincingly. He was only hoping, really. He didn't want to have to deal with three catastrophes. 

"What if he _ain't_?" Shade harped. "What if he's in some alleyway being drained _right now,_ and he…"

"Shade, we'd _know_." Specs said. "There's other ways of communication between the children of the prophecy besides physical, you know."

"What if he _can't_?" Shade persisted. Specs sighed and massaged his temples. The questions were beginning to chisel at his patience.

"Then that's your job." He said finally. "You and Bumlets go up to the Bronx. Start searching."

Shade sighed and glanced sideways at Bumlets, who was nodding, and already pulling on his jacket. She hated this feeling of guessing and hoping. What if Jack wasn't in the Bronx at all? They'd have wasted a whole night! But what other proof did they have to go on? And what about Misprint? How could they be searching for her, when they didn't have a clue to where she was? 

"Fine." She said testily. "We'll take the Bronx." She turned to Gemini, who was lying a clear orb on the pillow, where the blood had not quite yet dried. She shuddered involuntarily, then grabbed Bumlets arm and dragged him towards the window. 

Mondie sat in the corner, kitten clasped tightly to her chest, watching them ready themselves for what seemed like a battle. Gemini placed the other orbs around the bed and sighed, nervously toying with the curls that hung around her face. Specs went into the washroom and began filling a cup with water.

"This'll be easy." He was saying in reassurance. "Mis is an elemental, so we just have to gather samples of the other elements. Your powers…"

"Or what's left of 'em." Gemini grumbled.

"Will automatically start searching for the missingo ne." He finished sternly. He brought the cup back into the room and placed it on top of the bed, then glanced over at Mondie. "Mondie? Would you mind getting us some soil from outside?"

"Oh." Mondie started, surprised at having a use. "Sure thing."

"Jus' a handful." Specs was saying distractedly, as he ran a hand through his hair. "I think that should be it…" Gemini snapped her fingers and tried to raise so much as a few sparks, but nearly nothing happened. "Don't do dat, you'll waste your energy." 

Mondie placed the kitten down on the carpet, then brushed her hair away from her face. Gemini looked paler than ever, and was sighing. It was rather ironic. The one time they really needed her powers, they had been stolen by a "big ass misty thing." 

Mondie, too, pulled herself out the window in time to see Shade and Bumlets drop to the ground and take off for the Williamsburg Bridge. Even though they were running quite hard, they're shoes made almost no noise on the grass. Shade was sprinting far ahead than Bumlets, and Mondie sighed. She hoped they were able to find Jack. And Misprint. She didn't want things falling apart again.

She grabbed the top of the window sill and prepared to climb along the ridge, when suddenly she heard a meowing noise. Glancing down, she saw the kitten pawing insistently at the window. It opened its tiny, red mouth in an ear splitting yowl.

"Jesus!" Gemini's voice hissed from inside. "Mondie? Can you shut that thing up?"

"It wants to come with me!" She hissed back. Feeling her stomach clench, she loosened one hand and scooped the kitten up. It immediately stopped yowling and looked rather satisfied. 

"That thing sure is insecure." Specs said softly. Mondie scowled at it.

"Look, I don't know what your game is, but you're going to have to start behaving, alright?"

"Blimey, you're insistent."

She nearly dropped it. Fighting to regain her balance, she stared at it in wonder, but it did nothing but blink rather innocently. She shook her head again and placed it up on her shoulder, where it dug in with minuscule claws. 

"A'right. Hang on tight." She said, not entirely sure of why she was replying. To something it had said? "I must be really tired." She said under her breath. To her relief, she heard no answer to that.

She edged along the windows, praying she wouldn't wake the tenants, praying she wouldn't slip, praying this wasn't her last day on earth. How Shade and Misprint had endured this, she didn't know. Gratefully, she grabbed the side of the fire escape when she got close enough, and swung herself onto it. Wincing as she realised she was going to have scars, she plucked the kitten from her shoulder and flinched as it's claws picked at her skin.

"Brat." She muttered under her breath as she took to the stairs. "Maybe that'd be a good name for you. Brat." The kitten mewed indignantly, but no English words came from it's mouth. _Not that there should be English words coming from its mouth,_ Mondie reasoned. _I'm just real tired. Hearing things. Going insane. Whatever_.

The both of them remained silent all the way down to the bottom, where the ladder stretched down to the grassy ground. The kitten didn't hesitate, but squirmed out of Mondie's arms, and jumped the distance. It hardly stumbled when it hit the ground, then turned and looked up at her expectantly. She turned, climbed down the ladder, and dropped to the ground, not quite as graceful.

"A'right." She said, squatting. "A handful of dirt. Hope this helps." She began digging into the ground with her fingers.

"You could make things so much easier, you know." The cat replied simply. Mondie jumped to her feet, feeling as though she was reaching her wits end. The cat stared up at her as though it talking was an everyday thing.

"You aren't talkin'!" Mondie said quickly. "I'm daydreamin'."

"If you say so, luv." The kitten remarked simply. 

"But you aren't talkin'!" Mondie replied, a bit louder than was wise. "It ain't possible!"

"Neither are vampires." The kitten replied, looking a bit more annoyed at being told it wasn't possible. "Now are you going to get the dirt or not?"

"I…" Mondie looked at the kitten, then down at the pitiful pile of dirt she had managed to render. Then she looked up at the kitten again. "I'm crazy."

"You don't need to say it twice." The kitten remarked acidly. "They're _waiting_…"

"But _cat's don't talk_!"

"No." The kitten snapped, rather peevishly. "They don't. But, if you haven't already guessed it, I'm more than just a kitten. Now start cracking!"

Mondie winced, unused to taking orders from a cat, but obediently squatted down, shaking her head, and began gathering the dirt into a little pile in her hands.

"So you can talk just like humans?" She asked after a few seconds of silence.

"No. However, _you_ seem to speak my language."

"I speak cat?" Mondie asked, grinning in spite of herself.

"No, but we can understand each other fine." The cat said in annoyance, shaking out its head slightly and glaring up at the sky. "Why's it 'ave to be raining? I _hate _rain…"

"So I speak you."

"I reckon." The kitten replied. "Amanda, is it? Interesting. Last one was a Michael."

"Last what?"

"God incarnate, of course." 

"Jeez, where is she?" Specs asked worriedly. "Does it really take twenty minutes to get a handful of soil?"

"She better be alright." Gemini remarked softly. Specs glanced at her, then moved to the window. He peered outside, but the driving rain was all he could see, cutting off the rest of his vision. He sighed and turned back to her. "I'm going out to look for her."

"She _is _alright, isn't she?" Gemini asked suddenly as Specs grabbed his jacket.

"I hope so." He remarked cryptically. Gemini bit her lip and toyed with her curls again.

Specs turned back to the window and was about to walk towards it, when suddenly, Mondie swung into view again, the kitten clinging to her shoulder for dear life, the sodden dirt clenched in her fist.

"Got it!" She yelled, rapping at the window. Gemini sighed with relief, while Specs cursed under his breath as he jarred it open. "I got it!" She repeated exuberantly. "And Specs! You'll never guess! I'm a…"

"Great. Now rejoice _quietly_." He admonished. Mondie's grin fell as she clambered back inside, and held the dirt out timidly. The kitten jumped from her shoulder and hit the ground, shaking the excess bits of water from its fur, and looking up at Mondie.

"Your mad." It said plainly. "Couldn't you have taken the stairs like some kind of normal human being?"

Gemini furrowed her brows as Mondie kicked in playful annoyance at the kitten. "It thinks it knows everything." She explained, tossing her wet hair over her shoulder. "Anyways. There's the dirt. Sorry it's so wet. God, you'll never believe it! I'm a…"

"What took you so long?" Gemini asked worriedly. Mondie stammered to a stop, and shrugged impatiently.

"Thought I heard something, went to invistigate…wasn't anything…guess what! I'm a…"

"That'll do." Specs was saying hurriedly, as he dumped the hard earned soil into yet another cup. He placed the three glasses on the bedside table, as Gemini sat down, nervously, on the mattress. Mondie furrowed her brows.

"Guys? _Lissen_ to _me_! I'm a…"

"We're going to need quiet." Specs was saying distractedly. "It's a good thing everyone's asleep."

The kitten mewed in his direction indignantly. He glanced to it with an absent frown.

"Mondie, can you shut that thing up?"

"Thing?" the kitten spat indignantly. "I beg your pardon?"

"Quiet." Mondie said, frustrated. "But before you guys start, you should probably know that I'm a…"

"A'right." Specs said, sitting down beside Gemini. "You remember how to do a search, right? Like that sweep we tried last week?"

"That was just for my calculator…" Gemini remarked morbidly. Specs winced.

"Yeah, but it's the same concept." He said knowingly. Mondie sighed in frustration and dropped into a sitting position, bundling her knees up to her chest. "You remember how much energy you need? Even for inanimate objects?"

"Specs, I can't do this! Not only do I not have the powers, I don't even have the energy."

"Gemini…"

"Did you not hear me when I said my power was gone?" 

"I heard you! But your friends are counting on you!" He said, taking her hand and squeezing it, as though he could squeeze the magic back into her fingers. "You gotta try!"

"Hey." Mondie said timidly. "I'm a…"

"Shhh." Gemini and Specs hissed simultaneously. 

"Bastard!" 

Bumlets winced as Shade ran another vampire through with her stake. There weren't many vampires in the Bronx, but those that did inhabit the borough were as tough as anything. He figured that she alone must have wiped out three quarters of the population that night. She watched it crumble into dust at her feet, and began kicking at it. "_Take_…" She hissed as her boot hit the pavement. "My _best friend_ and my _sex bunny_ away and try to _get away with it_…"

"Calm down, Shade." Bumlets said quickly, taking her arm. He had only slain with her once or twice, and had forgotten how intense she could be when it came to killing. "He's gone."

"Aw, Bumlets." She said, her voice sounding almost whiny. She slid the stake back into her belt and looked up at the tall boy, hair running in streaks down her face. "When are we going to find them? They're all I have left in the world!"

Bumlets sighed and gave her a comforting half hug before taking out his own stake and scanning the alleyways warily. He wasn't sure how to answer that question, nor was he sure of why she had asked him. He wasn't some kind of psychic. Just a slayer.

"I don't know Shade." He finally said. "But we will. An' we'll kill whoever's got them."

"They're probably dead." Shade spat vengefully, taking out her own stake again. The two of them walked down the narrow side street, glaring through the rain. "They're probably dead, and it's all my fault."

"No it ain't, Shade."

"Yes it _is_."

"No, it ain't."

"Yes it _is_!"

"Shade, it coulda happened to anybody, alright?" He snapped, a little out of sorts. Shade glared at him.

"Yeah, but why did it have to happen to me? _Everything _happens to me!"

Bumlets kept quiet. He didn't want to remind her about all the other problems the rest of the world was going through at the moment. Instead, he tightened his fingers around his weapon and waited.

The search, however, was proving to be very fruitless indeed. There was no Jack, no excess vampires out for a lark, and no Misprint. 

"I sure hope that search is working." Bumlets remarked under his breath.

"Good luck." Shade grumbled. Bumlets bit his tongue, and kept walking. 

All of a sudden, a dark figure burst forth from the alley, passing Bumlets and landing in front of Shade. She pulled back into a fighting stance automatically.

"I got this one." She informed him. He obligingly stepped back and turned to scan the alleyways for any allies of the lone demon. 

Shade quickly kicked at the vampires stomach, and readied herself for the backlash. It came, as he darted at her and swung a fist forwards. She dodged, but not fast enough, and caught it on her jaw. Growling under her breath, she launched forwards, and attacked in earnest.

Now certain there were no more predators hiding in the alley, Bumlets turned and stood back, waiting for Shade to finish this one off. She seemed to be taking a longer time, but maybe that was simply because she was angrier than usual. Or simply being more dramatic. Whatever it was, she was dragging the fight out longer than usual.

Shade's head snapped back as her enemy managed to land another blow to her cheek. She yelled out, and in a blinding moment of rage, kicked out and pushed her full weight forwards. This proved as a mistake, as the vampire stepped back, letting her fall forwards and stumble slightly. 

"Shit!" She yelled. The moment the word left her lips, it happened again.

Something flicked inside of her and she knew she was weak again. Like a mortal. She gaped down at the sidewalk and tried to focus on not falling forwards onto the cement. She was suddenly dizzy, as though the absence of her powers threw her off balance.

__

Concetrate, she hissed inwardly. _Don't give…concentrate…_

Choking, she looked up to confront her enemy, but he wasn't there.

"Shade!" Bumlets yelled. "Look out be…"

"Agh!" The rest of his warning was lost in a flurry of panic as two hands wrenched her upwards and a pair of sharp fangs carved into the flesh of her neck.

Her mind went blank almost immediately. The only pinpoints of focus were on the two, fiery wounds in her throat, and the wild beating of her heart. She felt the blood, almost in slow motion, trail down her throat and hit the collar of her shirt.

__

This is what Mis felt like…she thought dimly. _When she first met_… 

"Shade!" Out of the darkness, a familiar voice blazed. All of a sudden, the fangs in her throat crumpled into dust, and the hands left her. She opened her eyes to see Bumlets standing there, staring at her, wide eyed in panic, stake clutched in his hand.

Unsteady on shaken legs, she choked, pressed the back of her hand to the side of her neck, and wavered.

"Shit." Bumlets muttered under his breath, reaching into his pocket. "That your first?"

"What?" Shade asked blankly. Bumlets shook his head.

"Never mind. Don't talk. Here." He took out a small roll of bandage and raised his hands to her throat. She flinched, but kept still as he braced her with one hand and began wrapping the rough feeling dressing around her neck. She blinked uncertainly and felt the initial shock wear off.

"Jesus Christ." She finally breathed. "I wasn't expecting that."

"No one ever does." He said reassuringly. Almost as though she was making sure, she glanced over her shoulder at the pile of ashes on the sidewalk. "Toldja. Bronx vampires are hard."

"It wasn't that." Shade said softly, shaking her head. Bumlets facial expression didn't flicker, but he glanced up at her with a questioning look in his eyes, that immediately turned sympathetic.

"Shade, it's just a fact of life." He said condescendingly. "Sometimes you get them, and sometimes they get you." 

"No, it's not because I'm ashamed…" She said quickly. She glanced down at her fist, and rotated it in the moonlight. She felt the powerful blood surging through her veins, and knew that it was back. What was it? Was she simply losing her strength at the moments she needed it the most?

"Shade?" Bumlets asked, inquisitive. "Whassa matta?"

__

It'll go away, she assured herself. But inside, she wasn't so sure. She felt rather shaky, even with the return of her powers.

"Nothing." She said, shaking him off slightly, and wincing when the newly open wound at her throat stretched. "Comon. We haven't found them yet." 

It was all Chaos could do not to hang off of Dutchy's arm when they stepped onto Catheral Parkway. Even her coslayer couldn't suppress a barely noticeable shudder, and she was sure it wasn't from the rain. It was more the feeling. Mortals could understand, but the minute a slayer set foot on that street, blood ran cold.

"I don't like this." He was saying nervously. "I don't like this at all."

Chaos didn't reply, not even with a cutting remark. She simply clenched her jaw and walked forwards. "Whoa! Wait up!"

"Scared?" She asked softly.

"No, I…just don't want you getting hurt."

She stifled her protests and kept walking, not really minding if he cared to catch up or not. Why Specs had sent the both of them up to Harlem with no accompaniment, she wasn't sure. And Chaos was nervous. Not frightened. Never frightened. But nervous.

The silence seemed to stretch on forever. Above the constant screech of cars and banter of nightlife, there were no vampiric figures, no whispered threats, nothing troublesome or dangerous. Didn't mean that they were safe.

"You really think Mis is in Harlem?" Dutchy asked finally, in barely a whisper.

"It's either here, or Brooklyn." Chaos came to a conclusion. "Who else would take her?"

"What if she isn't in the city at all?" Dutchy asked, even softer. "What if she's dead?"

Chaos hated that. She hated the fact that a student could have been killed in the same building she had been in. Her _friend _had been killed in the same building she had. Right under her own nose. 

"She's not dead." She snapped irritably. "Someone would have heard her scream or something…" She hastily choked back the rest of her reply, and the two of them went onwards.

They turned of Catheral Parkway into a dark alley, and made for the lesser streets. Vampires who wanted to conceal something rarely made their way through human saturated places, it wasn't very logical. The back alleys and side streets had become so crowded with them, it was almost a sanctuary all their own.

"Good luck." Chaos murmured under her breath. "Hopefully we'll get out of this alive."

"Oh don't be so morbid." Dutchy snapped in a high voice. 

"Why not? I got reason." She replied. She was about to say something else, but a sudden noise stopped her. She froze in her tracks, and her hand shot out and grabbed Dutchy's upper arm to stop him as well.

"Shh." She hissed under her breath. Dutchy stopped, and glanced warily at her face. The two froze in silence, straining their ears. "You hear that?"

"Nah…I…" Something rustled in a nearby side street. Dutchy's eyes set. "Yeah."

"We're bein' followed." Chaos said gravely. "And I don't think it's Shade. Or Bumlets..."

A sudden scream echoed throughout the street, and the two slayers whipped around, stakes at the ready, and faced whatever it was in the alley. 

Snitch walked away, feeling the money rub against itself in his pocket, tossing the purple ball up and down in his hand. It had managed to keep its effulgence thus far, but he knew it would be a matter of time. It was difficult taking powers from the red head, even though he'd never admit it. She was strong. He didn't know _what_ Slade was playing at, messing around with that girl.

"Yup." He murmured to himself, staring down into the dark, purple glow. "Soon he'll be over and done with _that one._ And you'll be too busy regaining your powers to interfere. That Slade sure is crafty, I got to admit it." He tossed it up and down a few more times, then shoved it into the leather pouch at his side. Then he let out an impish laugh.

Racetrack was used to the streets of New York. He had managed to memorise the structure of the city as easily as the back of his hand, and he knew it as well as he knew the hallways of the schools. But at night, it was a different issue altogether. The alleys seemed to change shape and veer off in different directions. He had to take strange side cuts to avoid the darker, less friendly places that night brought out the worst in. And he had to be extra quiet, to avoid being seen.

Chaos and Dutchy wouldn't like it if they knew he was trailing them.

Shivering in his jeans and dark sweat shirt, he glanced around as they stepped off Catheral Street and into a dark, twisty looking alleyways. What were they _doing_? He had only seen them talk once or twice, and hadn't been able to derive any sense from they're conversation. At one point, he thought he heard the word "Misprint' and "dead", but didn't want to put the two words together. 

He reluctantly followed them, his heart pounding against the inside of his rib cage as he picked his way around the boxes and trash that cluttered the alley and that would definitely give away his position. To avoid being seen, he had to trail a ways away behind the both of them, but he realised, with a slight tinge of panic, that he was losing them. They disappeared out the end of the alley, and he quickened his pace to catch up.

"Oh don't be so morbid." He caught the sound of Dutchy's voice and instinctively pressed himself against the dank wall of the alley. 

"Why not?" Chaos replied haughtily. "I got reason."

He heard something.

He glanced worriedly down, afraid he had accidentally kicked a bit of rubbish by accident. But there was no garbage around his feet. Just slick, dark, reflective stone. He swallowed nervously and glanced around, but there was no one to be seen. Just the empty alley.

"Shh. You hear that?"

__

Shit. Racetrack glanced around him worriedly again, and thought about making a dash for it. He'd be able to find his way back to the school, even at night. He knew that Chaos and Dutchy would near murder him for trailing them. Then, slowly, against his better instincts, he peeked out of the alley, just slightly, enough to see the two of them.

It was hard, through the driving rain. But he made out two figures, standing there, Chaos's hand tight around Dutchy's arm. 

"We're being followed." She said decisively. "And I don't think it's Shade. Or Bumlets..."

Shade? Bumlets? What did they have to do with anything? He furrowed his brows and tensed himself to run, just as he felt the hand slam down on his shoulder.

It was so powerful, it knocked him back into the wall. His head smashed against the brick and he felt a spell of dizzyness overtake his senses, bright colours flashing on the back of his eyelids. A soft, strange growling noise emitted from in front of him. He tensed, then opened his eyes. And gaped.

Standing in front of him was a full grown man, with dark yellow eyes, lips cruelly poised in an evil grin, with two, elongated, razor sharp teeth.

He screamed. 

Chaos was ready for some dark figure to come hurtling out of the alley and attack, but all she saw was a dark blur of shapes against the wall. One was screaming for all his life depended on it, and the other…

"Boy." Dutchy breathed. "Pinned."

"Go!" Chaos yelled. The two of them sprang forwards and dashed towards the alley.


	21. twenty one

****

Twenty One

Racetrack tried to push the figure away, but it was like trying to push a wall. The boy got the sense that his opponent wasn't even flinching. He felt his mouth open and he screamed again, unsure of why he couldn't seem to stop. It felt as though his heart had gone out and his legs had turned to water inside the skin.

The strange, fanged man gave a satanic grin, then circled a hand around his throat.

"No!" Racetrack yelled, grabbing the ice cold hand with his own ones, which were as hot and as dry as toast. "Lemme go! Lemme go!"

The man paid no attention, but slowly began raising him up, unnaturally strong. Racetrack tried to kick out at him, but whenever he did hit, nothing happened, almost as though he was kicking at a large, cold boulder. The hand tightened around his neck and he felt his air whistle through his throat. He tried to pry the dead cold fingers off his skin, but they were stuck fast.

__

What's going on? He thought hastily, as his mind began to blur. _What is this thing?_ He gaped and tried to inhale, just as a dark shape came hurtling out of no where and knocked his opponent away.

He felt his legs hit the ground and crumble beneath him, as his hands flew to his throat and he drew in his saving breath. Spluttering slightly, he tried to regain his senses as he used the wall for support, pushing himself to his feet. Another shape, but taller, lankier, came running in and grabbed at his arm.

"No!" He yelled, jerking it away.

"It's alright, I'm a friend." The voice said soothingly. "I…Racetrack?"

Racetrack winced. He had been found out. But he wasn't exactly complaining. He could still recall the cold fingers at his throat. Gratefully, he let himself be helped up, pushing the hair back from his face. His legs still felt wobbly and jellyesque as he tried to support his own weight.

Chaos and the vampire were facing off in the middle of the alley, each ducking swings as they tried to best each other. She sent a kick that landed on his stomach, and he doubled over in pain. She then pounded at the back of his head, and rammed a stake through his back. He exploded into a shower of dust.

Racetrack stared, his jaw propped open. Dutchy was glancing around in a panic. Racetrack wasn't supposed to be here. How long would it be before the entire school found out? How many had _already_ found out?

"Dust." Chaos was saying, as she rammed her stake back into her belt. She looked up at the two figures, and winced to see that one of them was staring. He didn't have to see that. _That's the trouble about saving mortals from these things, they always…oh no…_

"What?" She hissed. The face shape and warm brown eyes were familiar in the dark. "Racetrack? No. Oh no. God no. Racetrack?"

"This is what was trailing us." Dutchy said simply, still gripping Racetrack's arm. Racetrack winced, feeling like a criminal.

"What?" Chaos stalked towards him, looking as angry as he had ever seen her before. "You were following us? You…god…_you_! What's our business is…well…it's none of yours!" She fumbled.

"I'm sorry!" Racetrack replied loudly. "Every single night he's been sneaking out of the dorm and coming back at four or something and…well, I wanted to know…"

"What?" It was Dutchy's turn to look shocked. "I thought you were asleep!"

"You had to crawl over my _bed_!" Racetrack replied angrily. "You think I sleep through everything? I _know_ who's sneaking out, and I _know_ who's sneaking in. I knew that you guys would visit each other and leave together, and I knew that Misprint would use my room as a shortcut to Stephens." There was a slight pause at the dead boys name.

"Misprint snuck in through our dorm?" Dutchy asked in disbelief.

"Yeah. While _you_ were sleeping. Or _out._" Racetrack shook his arm free and wavered slightly, but regained his balance. "You think that I don't' know anything. Maybe I don't. But I _do_ know that something is going on. And unless you two have been sneaking out to go _copulate every single night,_ why don't you tell me?"

"Comon, Race." Chaos said, shoving her stake back into her belt. Her voice was trembling with nerves and anger. She and Dutchy exchanged a look. "Let's get you back to St. Mary's."

"What?" Racetrack protested, as Dutchy took his arm again. "Back? I don't think so. First, you tell me what's goin on." They didn't answer as they pulled him along, staring blankly ahead. "And what that thing was…and how you…"

"It's a long story." Chaos replied, feeling as though she was at the end of her wits.

"We got all night." He protested. He glanced down at the pile of ashes, which looked more like a clump of wet sand, and back up at the two of them. His vision caught on the stakes hanging at their sides. "Was it a vampire?"

There was a lengthy pause. The only sounds that could be heard was those of the far off traffic and the raindrops hitting garbage cans and brick, making a strange pattering sound that sounded like some type of music. Chaos didn't say anything, just chewed on her lip, and Dutchy was still staring angrily ahead. "Was it?" He persisted. "Comon, you guys. That thing almost…"

"A'right, yes." Chaos turned around, her green eyes flashing. "Yes, it was a vampire. And _yes_, we just killed it. And _yes,_ we're slayers. Happy?"

Racetrack gaped for a moment. He remembered Misprint and Shade constantly rambling about the vampires in books they had read, and how to kill them, and what killed them, and (in Shade's case) how sexy they were. But those had been books. And this was most definitely real life.

"I guess…"

"Good." She turned around. "Now _comon_. We don't need you out here getting hurt any more. Why you even followed us in the first place is fucking unfathomable…"

"Lemme go." He muttered, pulling his arm free of Dutchy's grip. Dutchy shrugged and shoved his own hands in his pockets. He felt incredibly guilty, incredibly stupid, incredibly naïve about what had been going on. But he knew now. And if this was the only way to find out, he was glad he had.

But there was still some things he was a little unsure on.

"Did you guys say something about Misprint?" He asked tentatively. Dutchy glanced over at Chaos, trying to catch her eye, but she was staring stonily ahead.

"We'll take him back to the school." She replied immediately. "Fill him in on the details. There isn't any getting rid of him now."

Racetrack was about to say he resented that, but she turned around and gave him a full on glare with her cat eyes. He shrunk back and meekly followed them through the driving rain, back to the school.

Gemini had fainted. For the fourth time.

"So much for progress." Mondie muttered to the kitten. She had pushed the seat of the toilet down, and was sitting on it, legs curled up to her chest, chin resting glumly on her knees, the picture of a neglected being.

"Well, you could help out if you wanted to." The kitten said cynically, licking one of his paws and pulling it over his head, perched safely on the counter near the sink. "But it seems you'd rather spend your time moping…"

"Help? How can _I_ help?"

The kitten looked up at her and blinked with those huge blue eyes that seemed to big for it's tiny, furry face.

"Transference, luv." It said simply. "Don't you know _any_thing about Bast?"

"That cat lady?" Mondie asked, wrinkling up her nose, forgetting that anyone with eyes could righteously call_ her _a cat lady. The kitten rolled its eyes to the heavens.

"_Yes,_ the _cat lady_." It spat, in mockery. "You know, a goddess in Egypt?"

"A little." Mondie admitted. "What was she the goddess of?" The kitten jumped down from the counter onto her lap, and looked up at her, a little more intent on his subject.

"Lotsa things, pet." Mondie opened her mouth to remark on the irony of _him_ calling _her_ pet, but was cut off. "Protection, being the main one, followed closely by transference. And fertility."

"Fertility?" Mondie asked, wrinkling her brow. "I'm the goddess of fertility? Like a walking talking birth control pill?"

"Bloody hell." The kitten groaned, hanging his head. Mondie winced.

"No, sorry, keep talking. It's interesting." She prompted. He sighed, shook out his whiskers, and got back on track.

"All in all, s'quite lucky I got here tonight. Seems like Gemini could use a bit of protection. Bit a' _transference_." It said meaningfully. Mondie slapped herself on the forehead with the heel of her palm.

"That's right! All I gotta do is transfer some of Gemini's powers from another wicca!"

"Or a watcher." The kitten remarked simply, licking at one of his paws. Mondie's brow tightened, deep in concentration.

"But Spec's powers can't possibly make up for hers, can they?"

"Have you ever heard of the saying; _every penny counts_?" The kitten remarked, switching his tail back and forth.

"But he won't listen to me." Mondie said, a slight sulky curve coming to her lips. "He won't even _answer_ me." The kitten gave her the kind of look that made her want to take back her words.

"Then don't ask." It said calmly.

"I can still slay." Shade snapped as Bumlets led her towards the school. Really, she thought later, the prospect of coming back because of a couple of nicks in her throat was rather embarrassing. Bumlets shook his head firmly.

"Nope. That was a Bronx Vampire. Tough. We can't risk having anyone in his clan sending you visions while you're out there in the pouring rain."

"What, like Mis?" Shade asked.

"Yeah. Like Mis."

"See? I wouldn't give into any of those! Come _on_!"

"That doesn't matter." Bumlets persisted, jaw tight. Shade's complaints had been chiselling at his patience the entire night, and he felt he was ready to snap, even though he was known for his perpetual serenity. Besides, he didn't want to put Shade's future in danger by letting her stay in the Bronx with a bite, let alone in the driving rain, when it was hard to see anyways. Besides, the scent of the blood would bring vampires in like vultures to a dying man in the desert.

"Aw, comon!" Shade whined. "Bumlets, my best friend is out there! And my _boyfriend._"

"I _know_, Shade!" Bumlets snapped. As if he hadn't been told that enough all night. "But you _can't go out an' slay with a bite._ It's like…dousing yerself in steak sauce and walking into a lion's den."

"Nice analogy."

"Comon." Bumlets eyed the distance it would take to jump from the ground to the bottom rung of the ladder. "I'll go up first, then help you up."

"I don't _need_ help…" She was remarking acidly, when the soft padding of footsteps cut them off. They turned and squinted across the dark field, through the driving rain.

Three figures, one tall and the other two fairly short, were making their way towards them, completely soaked.

"Who are they?" Shade asked, tugging at Bumlet's coat sleeve.

"I don't _know, _Shade. We'll have to find out." Bumlets told her slowly, in aggravation.

"No need to get cranky, I just…" She protested, but he gently shoved her.

"Jus'…shut up for a _minute_, a'right?"

Shade glared at him but obliged, fighting the urge to swear at him. She watched the tall, graceful boy take a few steps forwards, before stopping, a look of relief on his face.

"S'aright. It's Chaos. An' Dutchy. An'…" He squinted. "Someone else…"

"Racetrack!" Shade said suddenly. "What's he doing out here? They trying to take him too?" She pouted. "Are they trying to take away _all_ of my friends?"

"Shade, I don't think…" Bumlets began, but a sudden hiss cut them off.

"Bumlets. Anythin'?" Dutchy was jogging forwards. Shade saw Bumlets was right. Her eyes began picking out the familiar shape of his glasses, and face.

"None. Not even a _clue_." Bumlets said dejectedly. "Same with you?"

"Yeah. Bad." Dutchy said grimly, motioning back to Chaos and Racetrack, who were still jogging towards them. Race was pale, and on closer inspection, Shade saw a few bruises around his neck.

"Racetrack!" She blurted. "What are you doing out here? Did they get you? Did they _hoit_ you? I'll kill 'im. I'll kill you! Whaddaya doin' out here?"

"He was following us." Chaos said shortly, cutting off Shade's rapid fire questions. Bumlets groaned and pushed the hair back from his face.

"Trouble." He muttered.

"Look, I don't see what the big deal is." Racetrack was saying, spreading his hands pleadingly. "I won't tell nobody! You think I'm going to post it up on the bulletin board?"

"There are too many people who know about us already." Dutchy said. "We don't need one more." Racetrack sighed and his shoulders slumped.

"Well if you ain't gonna tell me anything else, _please_ tell me what happened to Mis. She's my friend too, y'know." He told Shade ruefully. Shade felt her heart well up with sympathy at his huge brown eyes, but with a quick look between her and Dutchy, shook her head.

"Race, when we get this all cleared up, you'll be the first to know, I _promise_." She said solemnly. He opened his mouth to protest, but she turned to Dutchy and lifted her chin. "Take Race back to his dorm. I'm gonna go check on Mondie and Gem."

"What?" Racetrack moaned, but Dutchy slammed a hand down on his shoulder, almost making him collapse.

"C'mon. It's nothing serious." He promised. Racetrack sighed resentfully, knowing fully well that it was incredibly serious. But he said nothing, and allowed himself to be led away. Shade turned to Chaos.

"Following you?"

"Yeah." She replied, squinting after them through the rain. Shade lifted an eyebrow.

"You _let_ him follow you?"

"It wasn't intentional." Chaos replied quickly. Shade grinned.

"I'm sure it wasn't."

"Go check on Mondie and Gem." Chaos snapped, grabbing Bumlets by the arm and pulling him forwards. "C'mon. You and me are going to go kill stuff."

Gemini revived with a scream.

Specs quickly clamped a hand over her mouth before it could turn into a fully fledged howl. Luckily, only a whimper escaped.

"Quiet." He hissed. "If we get caught, you know how much trouble we're in?"

"Shit, Specs, I can't help it." She moaned, a cold sweat breaking out on her forehead. "You don't know what it's _like_."

"Oh yes I do." Specs reminded her sternly. He gratefully accepted the cup of water Mondie handed to him. "I've been through the same thing."

"Yeah, but you ain't as powerful as me." Gemini said, unable to repress the urge to be a little snarky as she took the glass of water from him, with a trembling hand.

"Maybe not." Specs conceded nobly. "But I do know what you're going through. And I wouldn't be putting you through it unless I had to. But you…"

"Have to. I know, I know." Gemini said. "But Mis and Jack? Can't they hold out on their own until I get a little of my strength back? I _need_ a _break_…"

"It's not that simple." Specs replied, sitting back in his chair and furrowing his brows. "To lose a child of the prophecy before their time…it's a very serious thing, Gemini."

"But we already have a really strong group! The slayers were holding out fine before they even met us!" Gemini argued.

"Doesn't matter. It's about balance. And once that balance is thrown off, all pandemonium breaks loose. It only happened once before…"

"Once before? What happened?" Mondie wheedled. Specs glanced at the both of them, and sighed.

"Long story. Before we lost a…a slayer, work was slower. The slayers only had to go out once a month, as opposed to nightly. However, after her death, the situation got way outta control."

"How outta control?" Gemini pushed, sitting up straighter.

"The entire vampire population multiplied by about a thousand over night." He snapped, irritable. There was a small, thoughtful silence.

"Whoa." Gemini finally remarked.

"Cool." Mondie grinned.

"That's why we have the mortal coil, now." He said, sitting up, clearly ready to get back to work.

"The mortal what?" Gemini asked, furrowing her brows.

"Some day, I'll explain. Right now? We gotta try again."

"Now would be a good time, sweets." The kitten mewed from the floor. Mondie furrowed her brows, and winced slightly as Gemini sat up and wiped the sweat from her forehead.

"Y'think?" She asked, in a whisper so tiny that Specs didn't even notice.

"Oh yes."

"I dunno…"

"Look at her. She won't last the _night_." The kitten scoffed.

"That's because she had her powers taken away." Mondie snapped out loud. "She's really strong when she has them, y'know."

There was a brief silence, and her face flushed with guilt when she suddenly realised that she had said it in a normal voice. Specs and Gemini were staring at her with the utmost surprise.

"Uh…jus'…talkin' to myself…" She said, smiling slightly and raising her eyebrows. "I'm sorry, I'll be quiet."

The kitten purred.

Mondie resisted the urge to kick it, and glanced up at Gemini. What the kitten had said was true, her face was pale and glazed thinly with sweat. Her curls, usually so bouncy and lustrous, were limp against her shoulders, and her eyes were strained and tired.

"C'mon." Specs said, handing her the water glass. She drained it in one gulp. Mondie winced again, then nodded. Satisfied, the kitten walked towards her and rubbed against her legs, still purring, as though to give her confidence.

"It's easy." It mewed. Mondie nodded, and closed her eyes.

So did the kitten.

She felt her heart pounding, and her blood racing along the veins in her arms, and throughout her body. Slowly, she raised one hand and concentrated. Her fingertips began to glow a slight blue colour.

"That's it." She could hear the kittens voice, echoing throughout her head. "That's it…concentrate…" She nodded again and took a deep breath. She could feel the hair on her head fly backwards as the blue grew stronger.

Suddenly, both their eyes snapped open. They were bright, as though there was a light shining behind the irises.

"Now." The kitten said. "Carefully…carefully…" Mondie nodded, and just as she sent her powers forth in a rush of energy, she heard it mutter; "Just don't overdo it."

Specs flew out of his chair and hit the wall.

"Shit!" Gemini screamed, in spit of their promise to keep silent. Specs flipped over, and his arms spread out, almost as though he was being crucified. "What's goin' on? Specs! Specs, get down!" They could hear the rustle of the rooms around them coming to life.

"Gemini? Mondie?" A girl yelled sleepily from the other room. "Shaddup in there!"

"That would be overdoing it, luv." The kitten mewed prissily, looking up at Specs. "You've prob'ly knocked 'im out."

"Shut up!" Mondie said in a shrill voice. "_You're _the one who told me to. How do I get 'im down?"

"Mondie?" Gemini gasped. "Are _you_ doing this?"

Almost as though he was evaporating, slight wisps of navy blue power began uncoiling from his fingertips. His eyes were shut tight, and his glasses were lying on the ground, shattered. The smoke began drifting towards the window.

"Don't let it get away!" The kitten hissed. "Focus! _Focus_!"

"No!" Mondie yelled, trying to sound superior. "To Gem, er, Gemini, er, _Jennifer._ Go…to…Jennifer…" She waved her arms around imposingly. She could distinctly hear the kitten groan, but tried not to pay any attention.

"What?" Gemini was spluttering as the wisps of smoke hesitated, then began floating towards her. "What's it doin'? Mondie? Whaddaya doin'?" She leaned backwards as the powers began speeding towards her, twisting down towards her fingertips. Before she could yank her hands away, they curled themselves around her fingers and faded.

"Did I lose 'em?" Mondie asked in a panic.

"No, she's got 'em. Briefly, anyways." The kitten said, relaxing slightly. Their eyes flickered for a moment, before fading all together. Specs was still up against the wall. He groaned slightly, turning his head to one side. Gemini stared at Mondie, paler than usual. There was a brief silence. They could hear their room mates rustling about in the other rooms, and one girl banged on the wall.

"What did you do?" Gemini asked faintly. Mondie winced, and glanced up at Specs, who was still stuck to the wall.

"Oh bring him down, for pete's sake." The kitten reprimanded. She glowered at it.

"It's my first time, alright? No need to get all snippy."

"Mondie?" Gemini's eyes widened. "Are you _talking_ to that cat?"

They were interrupted by Specs unpeeling from the wall and flopping face first onto Gemini's bed, who yelped and drew her legs up close to her. "What did you _do_ to him?"

"Revive 'im." Mondie ordered, suddenly feeling very tired. She collapsed on the foot of Gemini's bed and took a deep breath.

"I can't! I don't have no powers!"

"You have _his _powers now, so use 'em." Mondie replied quickly. Gemini glanced down at her fingertips, uncertain, then back up at the unconscious boy. Hesitantly, she raised her hands and performed a simple spell.

Specs gave a shout of surprise and scrambled to a sitting position. He squinted, the lack of his glasses have a very apparent effect on his eye sight.

"Mondie? Gem? What jus' happened?" He asked slowly. Mondie grinned apologetically, as the kitten jumped onto her lap and began preening itself.

"Er…I jus'…I tried to uh…transfer some of your powers to Gem. Y'know. To make it easier." She said quickly, as his brows furrowed. "For her, that is. An'…I went overboard."

"Transfer?" He asked in disbelief, his forehead wrinkling. "You don't know how to…" Suddenly, he stopped. He glanced down at his fingers, over at Gem, then back to the kitten sitting on Mondie's lap. "Oh god…"

"I tried to tell you." Mondie said, shrugging sheepishly. "You were just too tied up to listen."

Specs gaped at her, like a fish out of water. But before he had the chance to reply, they heard imposing footsteps stomping along the hallway on the bottom floor, just as the window jarred open and a very wet Shade stuck her head in.

"Hey guys. How's the search?" She asked brightly. Her face fell at the sight of the three, flustered students. "This a bad time?"

"Very." Specs grabbed his shattered glasses and glared at them, before remembering he didn't have his powers. Gemini quickly repaired them, the colour coming back into her cheeks when she realised that she was able to do magic, even if the powers weren't hers. "Listen. This'll have to wait till tomorrow. We're skipping classes."

"Right." Gemini replied, looking pleased. The footsteps echoed up the stairs, along with the angry huffs of Ms. Mayen.

"And now, I gotta go." He quickly pushed his glasses on, nodded to Gem, and turned to dash out the window, as Mondie hastily picked up the kitten and shoved it into a drawer. The howl of protest echoed around the room.

Just as Specs slid the window open, Shade reached back and grabbed his shirt sleeve. "You didn't answer my question." She said softly. He squinted.

"What?"

"How's the search? Did you find anything? Are they alright?"

Specs sighed, his large brown eyes focused on her own, dark ones. He would have loved to tell her that her friends were safe, or that they had a clue, or that they'd be able to find them tomorrow. But he wasn't so sure himself. He knew that if he screwed up, the weight of the world would be on his shoulders.

"Sorry, Shade." He said gently. "We may be lucky tomorrow."

Shade's face fell, and she sighed, too despondent to pluck the wet strands of hair off her skin. "Right. Tomorrow."

"Amanda? Jennifer? Is that _you_?" Ms. Mayen's voice was asking, as she came storming down the hall. Quickly, Specs clambered out of the window and started rattling down the fire escape, as quietly as he could.

"_Quick_." Gemini hissed, lifting up her sheets, revealing the dark space under the wooden frame of her bed. Mondie was hastily clambering into her own, grabbing a small blanket to throw over her ears, and hastily muttering threats to the kitten if it didn't shut up soon. Shade furrowed her brows at this, but didn't have time to question as she scrambled under Gemini's bed.

Gemini reached over and clicked the lamp off. _We better find them tomorrow._ She thought, as she burrowed deeper into her covers. _We don't need any more deaths. _The kitten quieted it's ferocious protests just as the door burst open and Ms. Mayen peered inside to find two girls sleeping peacefully in blissful oblivion.

"Well, well, well." Jack froze, feeling his dead heart tighten in his chest when he heard the familiar voice. Busted. Sighing, he let his fingers uncurl from his victims neck and let the lifeless, bloodless body fall to the ground of the cemetery, making a dull thud on the grass.

"Hey Spot." He sighed, not even glancing over his shoulder.

Spot rolled his grey eyes and shoved his hands into his pockets. The rain had just cleared up, leaving the night wet and cool.

Jack turned, expecting to see Spot in his prime, catching his vampire slayer feeding. But instead, he looked almost shrunken inside his huge jacket, and paler than his usual, vampiric state. Jack squinted. If he looked past the irises of his sire's eyes, he could see a sort of listless despondency that resembled…emotion?

"S'matter, Spot?" He asked, a slight smirk tugging his lips. "All choked up?" Spot's eyes narrowed into a hurt glare.

"Yeah. And I got _you_ to thank for it." Jack gave a brief laugh and rolled his eyes skywards.

"Then why d'you do it?"

Spot stared up at him, his eyes calculating, as though deciding whether his fledgling was worthy enough to bestow the information upon. His brows furrowed slightly, and it seemed his eyes grew even more hurt.

"I wouldn't have, if it hadn't a been for…" He trailed off, and then smirked, as though trying to regain his old arrogance. But it wasn't there any more. It was almost amusing, as though Jack was watching a child trying to act like a gangster. "Don't matter." He stalked forwards and pushed past Jack, shoving him to the side. Jack's smirk remained intact as he turned around to watch his sire walk away. Suddenly, Spot turned around, eyebrows raised. "How did Shade take the news?"

Jack rolled his eyes. "She hasn't."

"You didn't say anything to her?" Spot asked, one eyebrow arching slightly higher. "She can't _tell_?"

"She'll figure it out soon enough." Jack muttered. In truth, Shade was somewhat of a weak spot for him, his old, human ties still bridging the gap between life and death. He cleared his throat and straightened, slightly. "Besides. Figure I might as well live it up while I can."

Spot raised an eyebrow. "Jack. You're _dead_."

"You have a way with the obvious." He replied tersely. Spot sighed, and without a word, turned and began walking away.

"Shouldn't you be in bed?" He called over his shoulder. "It's a school day tomorrow."

Shade couldn't believe it when she saw Jack stroll past her down the hall to his gym class the next morning.

He looked fine, short of a bruise he had gained on his temple from taking down a particularly insistent vampire a couple nights ago. His hair was parted and slicked down, as usual, with his trademark strands hanging down in front of his eyes. His blouse was straight and tidy, and his tie was knotted correctly.

No blood. No scars. No bruises.

What was going on?

"Jack!" She grabbed onto his sleeve and pulled him into a lesser hallway off to the side, where the crowds of adolescents weren't so tense. Before he could even say anything, she had wrapped her skinny arms around him in a tight hug, and had buried her face in his shoulder. The first thing she noticed was the sheer _chill_ coming off his skin…_He just came from outside_, she told herself. _Expectable._

"Heya Shade." Jack replied, giving her a quick hug then prying her off of him, almost anxiously. His eyes dwelled shortly on the cuts on her throat, then snapped back up to her own eyes. "What's the matter?"

"What's the matter?" She repeated, brows furrowing. "What's the _matter_? The matter, Mr. _Kelly_, is you disappearing in the middle of the night. The matter is us thinking you were hurt, like Misprint. The matter _is_…"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, slow down." Jack laughed, raising his hands slightly. "I disappeared?"

"I went back to your dorm, and you weren't there." Shade said stubbornly. Jack raised his eyebrows.

"I was too restless to sleep, thought I'd get out and stake a few." He furrowed his brows and grinned slightly at Shade's disbelieving look. "What? You know me well enough to…"  
"Jeez." Before he could stop her, she had wrapped him in another fierce hug. "You _scared_ me! You know how much you scared me? I'm gonna kill you." Jack winced as Spot's words floated back to him. _Jack. You're dead. _"You're so cold! Is it that bad outside? Man, I'm_ so _glad you're a'right…"

"What? Mis? Someone captured Mis?" He asked, brows knotting into false concern.

"Yeah." Shade's eyes were cast downwards. "She ain't…Gemini did a search an' everything. She isn't anywhere. Yet. We…" She looked up at him. "Didja happen to see anything unnatural out there last night?"

"No." Jack said absently. "But why didn't she use her powers to…"

"We don't know." Shade replied, disconsolate. "That's what we all wanna know."

"Wheah'd you get these?" He cut her off. His fingers lifted and gently touched the bite marks on her neck. She winced.

"Oh. Rogue vamp. Dusted it. Y'know. I can't _believe _that…"

"Get them bandaged up." He said quickly, shifting his bag higher onto his shoulder and backing away. Shade's brows furrowed.

"They're only scratches…"

"Get 'em bandaged." He repeated firmly, looking almost as though he had to pry himself away. She rolled her eyes.

"Gawd, you are _just _like Bumlets…" She opened her mouth to say more, but he was already gone. As though he had disappeared.

She sighed in disappointment and hugged her books tighter to her chest. Spot's words echoed in her head, whispers of the graveyard scene catching on the jagged edges in her mind. _I'm sorry about Jack. Maybe you should look a little closer_.

"They're insane. The both of them." She said, to console herself. Then, brushing that out of her mind, she focused on the problem of the absent Misprint, and turned to go to Science.

Gemini had the city at her fingertips.

She could feel the three elements swinging inside her, almost like partners in a choreographed dance, but with one missing…

__

Fire, her mind hissed. _Water, earth, air and fire…_Almost as though she had no control, she felt Specs powers shoot out her fingers and spread over the city, like a huge invisible blanket. The blue mist swirled in her inner vision, and she saw the edges of her powers stop at the Upper East Side of Manhattan, and Kensington in Brooklyn. Her closed eyes tightened as she tried to push them further, thinning them out.

Her energy began lessening as she pushed and pushed, but she seemed to be getting nowhere. She could barely feel the far edges of Brooklyn. The elements were dancing faster inside her, needing their counterpart.

"Fire." She whispered out loud, her forehead glazed with sweat. "Fire! Where are you?"

Suddenly, a slow mist of purple began forming around the edges of the blue. Gemini's eyebrows furrowed, and she felt her heart speed up. Purple! It was her own powers! They were coming back! The purple mist barely formed a border around the blue, but it was there. _Well, not all a' me powers_. Gemini thought. But she was too confused to try and think up an answer.

Relieved, she began stretching at her own powers, pushing them out further. She only managed to get a couple miles before they stopped, unwilling to go any more.

__

It's a start. She thought.

She braced herself for the hardest part of the operation. The actual search. She counted to three, took a deep breath, and let her mind go.

Almost immediately, she lost track of herself. Her mind rushed out of her soul, through her fingertips, and took off out the window, skimming along the swirling blue mist, racing at the speed of light. Gemini was no longer aware of the bed, the dorm room, the temperature, nothing. She was simply her mind, rushing through the city, looking for fire.

Small traces appeared here and there. At factories. In fire places. On candles. But all these traces were exactly that. Traces. She needed the real deal, the source. But the blue mist told her nothing. New York was devoid of its fire elemental.

She reached the purple mist, and felt the familiar comfort of her own powers.

She waited for the mist to be sucked down into one location, telling her that's where her friend was. But nothing happened. It hung over the city, peaceful, like a smoke screen.

She felt her energy give out, and the view of the city in her inner eye faded.

The physical elements rushed back to her. She felt her body hit the mattress and the exhaustion that swept into her limbs and mind. Her eyes snapped open and she could see, through a sheen of tears, the ceiling. The door to the bathroom. The slow sounds of New York came rushing back to her, and she quickly blinked the tears away. _Gotta find her…gotta find her…_

"Didja have any luck?" A voice asked eagerly.

Gemini turned her head, confused. She had forgotten that Shade was there. She began to feel the girls hand on her wrist, and sighed. She shook her head limply.

"None. But I can't see all of New York just yet." She replied, hoping Shade would still have hope. "I mean…she could be in Harlem. Or Brooklyn…" She trailed off, and became silent. A simple, meaningful glance between the both of them clearly showed they were both thinking the same thing.

Shade thought of spot in the graveyard, and wished she had staked him right then and there. Whether he needed to talk, or no. Maybe Misprint would still be here if it wasn't for him.

"Sorry." Gemini said, brushing the curls back from her face. "My powers are coming back…at least getting stronger…I'll try and do another search before the day is out…"

"Don't stress yourself." Shade ordered.

Gemini sighed hopelessly. It had been three days, and they had had practically no luck in finding Misprint at all. This had been only the second time she had been able to search.

"Don't worry." She said listlessly. "I'm sure once I get all my powers back, we'll…" Her words were cut off as a monstrous yawn took over, and her eyes closed automatically. "Sorry. Jus' a li'l…tired…"

A metallic buzzing sound suddenly echoed through the room. Shade winced at the school bell, and remembered suddenly how she and Misprint used to joke about the school falling down. She felt a deep set depression take over the pit of her stomach. The door to the washroom opened, and Mondie came rushing out, securing a head band over her ears. Specs followed, a bit more naturally.

"Training." She explained hastily to Shade's curious look. "No time. Didn't…realise…how…late…I…am…" She staggered her words as she tried to pry off the kitten, who had latched onto her kilt, and pull her socks on at the same time.

"Good." Shade said shortly, rubbing her temples. "Because seeing you dash out of the washroom with Specs at your heels seemed kinda…"

"Don't." She and Specs replied simultaneously. Shade glanced at the clock that hung over Gemini's bed, and sighed.

"Yeah, well, off to Ms. O's. Y'know. Socials." She grimaced and began knotting her tie. It was strange. Even the loosest knot felt constricting.

"Say." Specs said suddenly, his forehead wrinkling. "Where's Jack? Wasn't he supposed to come over and check to see how things are doing?"

"Jack doesn't care any more." Shade said shortly, not caring about the fact she was talking about her own boyfriend. Gemini gave her a strange look. She sighed and flipped her braid behind her shoulder. "Well…he never even seems to show up for anything anymore. I think he's…"

"Goin' through a phase?" Mondie suggested as she secured a few clips to her head band, to stop it from falling off.

"Seems more than just that." Shade replied, her eyes thoughtful. Mondie winced, grabbed her bag, and slung it over her shoulder.

"We gotta go." She said shortly. "Shade! Comon!"

Shade quickly grabbed her bag and followed suit, feeling quite out of place. Leaving Gemini alone to this near torture. Leaving Specs to deal with it. Leaving Misprint alone out there…wherever she was…with no powers to help. Usually Shade was so eager to help, others had to pry her off.

__

This is different, she thought, sprinting after Mondie, who had a hand on her hair band for safety. _I can't do anything._

Jack was perfect, as usual, as she slid into class, just as the last bell went off, and Ms. Orrello stood up, clutching her lesson plan in her hand. Shade glanced at her quickly, before tumbling into her seat and dumping her bag on the floor. Misprint's desk, beside her, was still empty.

She turned around and chanced a look at Jack. But he was staring straight ahead, the vision of innocence. _He was like that when I first saw him, _she thought eerily. But no, there was something so human about him before. Now…she couldn't put her finger on it.

"Quiet. Please, class, be quiet. Everyone, be quiet." Ms. Orrello was saying. "I'm taking attendance now. Everyone. Please. Be quiet. _Class_…"

Almost as though he could sense her gaze, he glanced her way, and gave her an empty looking sort of smile, with raised eyebrows, as if he was asking "any luck?" She shook her head and gave a sad kind of shrug. Even though he made all the right enquiries, and showed all the right concern, and gave off the same feelings of revenge, he was different.

__

Or I'm jus' paranoid. She thought to herself.

"Faith McAlester?" Mrs. Orrello called out, staring down at her attendance sheet. Shade brushed a strand of hair back from her face.

"She ain't…she isn't here." She called, quickly correcting her grammar. Being a slayer had suddenly made her a lot more conscious of her work habits. She could understand their need to remain faceless. Ms. Orrello looked up curiously.

"Not here? Is she sick?"

__

Probably. Shade thought. _By now, she's probably ripped up in pieces and all…_

"Yeah. Kinda." Shade replied, hoping that this lie wouldn't lead her too deep into trouble.

"Has she gone to see the nurse?"

"She was on her way." Shade made up vaguely, pulling her binder out of her back pack and unzipping it. "No need to worry. Jus' a…" She thought quickly. "Passing flu."

"Well, I hope she gets better soon." Ms. Orrello said, sounding as though she couldn't care less. Shade grimaced.

__

Me too.

The sunlight drove in through the gaps between the boards and the windows, leaving slices of light on the dark floor. Even though most of the city was still shaking off the winter frosts, the room was stiflingly hot, as though the darkness was fire. Only after ones eyes adjusted, could one make out the dark shape of a desk near the window, a few chairs, and a bed in the corner of the room…

Spot lay on the mattress, grey eyes glowing, staring up at the ceiling with a desperate gaze, almost that of a dying man. His dark blonde hair was spread out around the pillow, and his limbs deadly still on the blood red sheets. Thoughts fluttered through his head, disoriented, smashing into one another and echoing in the dark recesses of his mind.

__

Spot, don't do this…

The blue eyes were staring at him. Through the darkness, like candle flames, flickering and changing emotions like the moon changed shape. _How can they manage to look so scared, and so amused at the same time? _he thought, groaning as his head began pounding. The weight of the human emotions in his skull was beginning to hurt…beginning to drag him down.

__

Who are you? Where're you taking me?

S'aright…just relax…

Spot groaned. He had had such nice eyes…such beautiful eyes…the way his white blonde hair had fallen across his face…even at six, he was as captivating as an angel. And Spot had never touched him that way. Not until…

__

You're the grand wild, come and court me…'Cause this wooing, Is what I'm wanting…

Shh…you don't wanna go causing a scene…

You drain me. You nuked Shade…you did something_ to Jack, he just won't tell me. Well, how 'bout _you_ tell me, huh Conlon?_

How could he tell her? He wouldn't have been able to tell her if he tried. And she wasn't even there. He had gone to the school, stared up at her dorm room window. She was gone. There was blood…

"Why did I have to be such an idiot?" He asked out loud, to the all consuming darkness. "I could've turned her…taken her with me…or left her alone…"

__

My mommy? What happened to her? And daddy?

And _her_ eyes. They were like the colour of blood, once it had dried on pale skin. The colour of sin itself. But how could sin be so evident in one so small?

__

Dead.

But they were here a second ago…

He growled as his thoughts began clashing. He could feel the emotions fading, the demon in him struggling to be let loose from under this pile of human empathy…

__

Kill her…I couldn't of, she was so small, and she meant so much…Spot, whaddaya doin'?…Stephen. My name's Stephen. Mine. She's mine. I…her own…mine…her own…not there. Blood. Where is she? Is she alright? She's run away…bitch…switch blade…so small…fragile. So fragile. Like glass…

They all were so fragile. And he had lost so many…


	22. twenty two

****

Twenty Two

Shade could hardly believe she lasted the end of the day. Between worrying whether Misprint was all right, trying to figure out what was wrong with Jack, and hoping Gemini was still going to be breathing by nightfall, she felt as though her mind had been torn to shreds with concern. She shoved her books in her locker and filled her bag with the homework she'd need, but she didn't see a time when she'd get a chance to do it.

"Shade." She jumped as a hand landed on her shoulder, and twisted her head around to see a pair of familiar chocolate brown eyes staring at her. Racetrack. She sighed and gave him a small, sad smile, before swinging her bag onto her shoulder and slamming her locker closed.

"Heya Race."

"How's…um…everythin'?"

"Peachy." She replied sarcastically.

"Any news on Misprint?" He asked carefully, pushing his thick hair back from his forehead.

"Misprint's fine." Shade said automatically. He sighed and dropped his hand.

"No, she obviously _ain't_. Why don't you start tellin' me the truth? I thought we were friends!"

"We are!" Shade protested, eyebrows raising. "It's jus'…I wanna know exactly what's going on before I start dishing out details, alright?"

Racetrack sighed and regarded her. She looked pale, and tired. As though she hadn't been sleeping properly. But who had? Racetrack could hardly remember a good nights sleep ever since the year had begun, what with all the people crawling through his dorm and over his own legs. He was still trying to process the idea that vampires did exist.

"Fine." He replied, stepping backwards. "Jus'…tell me if…y'know, she's hoit…"

"She's not hoit." Shade said automatically, plastering a small smile onto her face. "She's just fine."

__

Just fine.

Mondie sat with the kitten on her lap, absently stroking its head, too concerned for her friends well being to acknowledge its purrs of approval. Gemini looked as though she might die any moment. Specs powers weren't working out for her too well, and she was able to stretch her own powers only a few blocks more every two hours.

"S'no use." She said suddenly, her eyes snapping open. Specs looked up from his studies, face narrowed in concern. "She's no where, jus'…" She sighed. "_No_ wheah."

"Gem, we've only been searching for three days." Mondie put in, trying to be helpful. "Besides. She could be in Queens."

"Or Harlem." Specs added, shoving his glasses up the bridge of his nose with his finger.

"But why? Wouldn't it make more sense for her to be in _Brooklyn_?" Gemini demanded. Both students winced, as though she had just uttered a curse instead of a borough. She sighed. "I mean, Spot could be angrier than ever, couldn't he? Why wouldn't 'e take her? Why don't we just start searching for his lair?"

"You ain't strong enough." Specs said firmly. Gemini sighed.

"Well, thanks for reminding me."

"Gem, I'm doing all that I can." Specs said, looking suddenly very tired. "I mean…I can't do much without my powers." Mondie grinned guiltily. "But I'm training Mondie, and I'll try and help you search as much as possible. The slayers have taken both Queens an' Harlem. We've reported Misprint missing to the school, and Mush and Blink are working hard with the police. You ain't alone."

"But we still haven't found anything." Mondie chirped. Specs gave her a withering look, and she silenced, guiltily. But Gemini's thin, red brows were furrowed. Mondie could read her friends expression like a book. "Wait…have we?"

"Have we what?" Gemini replied quickly, her eyes widening innocently. Mondie's forehead grew even more wrinkled as her eyebrows arched upwards.

"Found anythin'? You got that look."

"Look? I don't know what you're talking about." Gemini said defensively. She rearranged the representatives of the three elements in front of her, feeling her fingers tremble slightly. There was a small silence.

"Gemini…" Mondie wheedled.

"Spill it, luv." The cat meowed. Gemini, of course, couldn't understand, but Mondie nodded in support.

"Gem, whatever you saw, you gotta tell us. Whether it's good or bad." Specs said carefully. Gemini sighed and started pushing the dirt into the smallest pile possible. Little crumbs of it were scattered here and there, refusing to be pushed into position. Gemini's eyes flicked from one to the other, and when she spoke again, her voice was small and frightened.

"I saw nothing." She said, sounding as though she wished she was telling the truth. "Nothing."

Shade hadn't been in the Rec. Room in a year.

She sat now in the corner, leaning against the wall, homework and books spread out around her like an impenetrable fortress that, so far, no one had tried to breach. She couldn't remember what had even happened the last time she had been down there. Misprint and Racetrack must have been with her. It was their getaway, their main meeting place, until the two girls had saved up enough for a lap top, and had locked themselves up in their dorm room. But the place hadn't changed much, she thought, lifting her eyes from her homework and glancing around. The same, faded yellow paint that must have been cheery at one point, the wide, dirty windows, the spongy, thin carpet that smelled strange and old. Misprint was always antsy about touching the carpet. It didn't seem like the type of material you wanted bare skin to come in contact with. _And with good reason, _Shade thought, warily eyeing an old, brown, toxic looking stain a few feet away from her.

A few elementary school kids were playing a noisy game of cars in the center, and a couple random older girls had staked their claims on the bean bag chairs lining a wall. Other than that, the room was relatively empty. No one spoke to Shade. The sight of her preoccupied eyes, and the piles of books and papers around her were enough to guarantee solitude.

Even though Shade looked as though she was studying, her mind was off topic, searching through a world of memories and ideas, desperately trying to find a clue, a hint…_anything_ to where Misprint might be. Her gaze travelled over the joyless, ugly walls, snagging on tears in the plaster and random initials or slogans that couldn't be washed off. _R.G. C.C. Amanda Marshall iz a SLUT. NJL forever. SSI wuz here._

Her eyes suddenly landed on something she had completely forgotten about.

Written on the wall a few feet away, were a multitude of scribbles, initials, and messages that caught her eye. And scrawled across the top, in her writing, were the words "When shall we three meet again? In thunder, lightening, or in rain?"

"Macbeth." She whispered under her breath. Eagerly, she pushed the book off her lap and moved forwards.

Her writing became distinguishable in a few messages. Along with that of Racetrack. And Misprint.

She had completely forgotten how they had received their nick names.

The teachers were obviously strict on "vandalising school property" or "disrespecting our school", and any other way they wanted to put it. But the students did it anyways. The only problem was trying not to get caught. The simplest way was to devise a code of nick names.

Wonderingly, she reached up and began tracing the letters with her finger. They must have been written about a year ago, before school had started in their eleventh year. When Racetrack, Misprint, and herself were like the three musketeers.

__

Shade is stupid, Misprint had written in her tight lettering.

__

Am not.

Are too.

Am not.

Are too.

Cat fight.

Shut up Race.

She grinned. Misprint had received her alias for her infamous spelling mistakes that were scribbled out on almost every message. Racetrack, for the job he had held over the summer, working at a stable at the Sheepshead Bay Races. And Shade? Simply because she wanted it.

__

Misprint Racetrack was across one section, with a large heart circling it. She read the conversation underneath it with amusement.

__

What the hell is this?

Nothing.

Nothing?

A joke.

A joke?

No, I'm actualy hopelesly in love with you.

Are you really?

Conversation closed.

Shade smiled indulgently as it continued on another section.

__

Mis loves me.

I do not!

Mis loves me.

Your full of yourself.

Mis loves me.

I said conversation closed!

Mis loves me.

Maybe if you ressembled David Usher.

Mis loves me.

Shut up!

"Happy Claire's day."

Shade jolted up out of her reverie with a start. It took herself a second to get her thoughts back on track. The moment she did, she realised Racetrack was standing in front of her, brown eyes warm and comforting.

"Hey Race." She replied, feeling a slight smile tug at the corners of her lips. "Sit down, take a load off."

"Don't mind if I do." He shrugged, collapsing cross legged in front of her. If he saw the graffiti, he gave no notice.

"What were you sayin'?" Shade asked.

"Happy Claire's day." He repeated easily. She furrowed her brows. He didn't look as though this was the interlude to some kind of joke. She decided to bite.

"Whazat mean?"

"It was this day." He said quietly, picking at the spare threads on his pants. "Y'see, there was this nun, Claire."

"What happened to 'er?"

"She got raped by her priest, before he locked her and all the rest of her sisterhood in the basement of the church, and burned it down."

Shade stared at him with raised eyebrows. This was pretty heavy, coming from Race. Usually he was as light hearted as anything. Well, except for the past week, after he had heard about Misprint…

"Burned it down?"

"Yeah."

"With everyone in it?"

"Oh yeah."

"In the name of God?"

"Naw. He was jus' a psycho." Racetrack shrugged. Shade tried to shake off the strange feeling the story gave her. She was used to tales of that sort, like Vlad the Impaler, or Henry the Eighth killing off all six wives, but this one seemed to take a hold on her.

"And we have a day?" She asked, furrowing her brow. "_Happy_ Claire's day?"

"Don't ask me." Racetrack asked, spreading his hands in a bewildered gesture. "I didn't decide to have it."

"Why don't we get a holiday from school?"

"Because Claire's Day isn't a well known one. Even if it was, do you really think it's the kind of thing that we'd celebrate at a Catholic school?" He replied easily, brushing the bits of thread off his pants.

"And why are you telling me this?"

For the first time, he looked a little baffled. Almost a little guilty. Shade narrowed her eyes, but he regained composure quickly.

"No reason. Jus' thought, y'know. Two days before Valentines. Kinda interestin'." Shade started slightly. Two days before Valentines. Had time really passed that quickly?

To divert her attention, he turned and caught sight of the messages.

"Say!" He said, shifting around slightly. "Is this us?"

"Sure is." Shade replied, grabbing one of her books and opening it. Racetrack chuckled as she ruffled through the pages, trying to find her last question.

"Man. This stuff must be a year old!"

"Mmm."

There was a small silence that descended on the both of them, as Racetrack's well worn eyes slowly read over the messages, his lips curving into a grin. He chortled once or twice at the goofiness that showed through the ink. It felt almost as though someone else had lived those lines. A year was a long time to measure.

__

Amy Willis is a HUSSY. Shade had written in large letters. This prompted a laugh from him.

"Man. I miss those times." He said, settling back on his haunches. Shade nodded, trying to concentrate on her reading. But his next, hesitant sentence jarred her. "Maybe when Mis gets back…things will…" he sighed slightly. "Y'know. Return to normal."

Shade felt something inside her freeze. Almost as though a cold wind of truth had just blazed through her insides. Or as though a flame had gone out.

"She ain't comin' back." She heard herself say in a hollow voice. "Spot took 'er."

"What?" Racetrack blinked. The understanding in his brown eyes seemed to fade, replaced by fear slipping around the edge of his irises.

Shade closed her eyes. He had wanted the real story.

"D'you remember when you walked into Jack's dorm, and we were there?'

"Yeah." Racetrack replied, too intent to bring up the fact they were both in their undergarments at the time.

"Misprint ran into a vampire the night before." Shade said slowly, as though the information was being pulled out of her. Painfully. "Spot Conlon. She _ran into_ him again at the Halloween Dance. Every night since then, he's crawled in through the window while I've been out slaying. He killed Stephen. He did something to Jack. An' now he's stolen Gemini's powers, and…" She sighed, and opened her eyes. They were glimmering, and wet. "Taken Mis away. Probably to do something horrible to her before he kills her."

Racetrack blinked again, feeling his mouth fall open in a gape. Shade blinked a few times to clear her eyes, then began to calmly gather up her books. "Sorry." She murmured under her breath.

Quickly, she pressed her books flat to her chest and brushed past him as the dinner bell went.

Racetrack's first impulse was to run after her and grab her arm, bring her back, _make_ her explain. But he realised, sickly, there was nothing left to explain. The whole story.

The students began filing out, still chattering and laughing and joking around. Oblivious to the fact that one of their numbers was dead.

__

Two, Racetrack realised, a feeling of numb disbelief sweeping his body. _Stephen and Mis. Both of them._

Without thinking, his hand reached into his back pocket and clamped around a pen. Slowly, almost robotically, he turned towards the wall and scanned over all the messages once more. Then, quickly, his hand shot out and he wrote one message.

__

Where are you?

"Hey." Shade slid into the spot beside Specs as the dinner bell rang, depositing her books and papers on the floor in a messy heap. The doors to the kitchen banged open and the lunch ladies came out, pots steaming and smelling to high heaven. "When are you guys headin' over tonight?"

Specs sighed, glanced around uneasily, and leaned closer. "We ain't allowed."

Shade's jaw dropped. "What?"

"I said, we ain't allowed. They caught Dutchy on the fire escape comin' down from your room."

"What was he doing up there?" Shade asked indignantly.

"Trying to find you , genius. Anyways, he nearly fell and hyperventalated. You know how he is with heights." Specs said under his breath as a woman slopped a scoop of stew into his bowl. Shade raised her eyebrows, but said nothing. "They're keeping a tight watch on us, Shade. They won't let us do anything. And we can't risk being expelled."

"Why not? You're _slayers_. You're…like wandering minstrels. Without lutes." Shade snapped angrily, jabbing at the beef with her spoon, watching it dissolve into mush. "It wouldn't hurt _you_."

"We need _somewhere_ to stay." He protested. "An' so do you. Sorry. No meeting."

Shade growled and let her spoon fall into the bowl, splashing her shirt with bits of sauce. No meetings. No Specs helping Gemini find Misprint. How were they supposed to find her with all the obstacles being thrown in their way?

"But what about…" She began, but he cut her off before she could even finish her sentence.

"We'll find her." He said, trying to make his own voice sound firm. But he wasn't so sure.

For a couple that had been "dating" for half a year, Shade and Jack didn't seem like they were on speaking terms as they walked through the night. Shade's jaw was clenched so tightly, she wasn't sure she'd be able to get a word out anyways, and Jack simply didn't care to even hear anything she had to say. The pressure of hunting alongside a slaying partner, and his overwhelming hunger, was too much for him to take.

Shade discreetly looked down and studied her fingers, pale, and wrapped tightly around her stake. It didn't seem that the same hand that had been mercilessly slaughtering vampires only a few months ago could suddenly lose and gain strength like in the blink of an eye. The brief absences of her powers had been hitting her two or three times a night, now, and every time they did, she always came off feeling a little woozy, with a deep, sickening feeling in the pit of her stomach. The wooziness would fade, eventually, but the pit was getting bigger and bigger, like sand draining through a hole. Something was the matter. Bumlets and Jack were beginning to notice slight changes in her routine, she'd go right for the vampires heart instead of "getting hot and bothered", as she used to put it, ever so eloquently. As though she just wanted to get it over with instead of stretch out the fight.

"Two reasons." Chaos had told Bumlets during cooking, as they watched her measure out a cup of flour. "Either she's getting tired of slayin', or she's scared. An' Shade don't get scared."

Shade did get scared. But Shade never got so scared as to the point where she felt she had to explain a weakness to someone.

She remembered her last close shave and winced, rubbing her wrist slightly. Bruises and scars had started appearing on her arms, as every fight, a vampire was able to get a little bit further, hit her a little harder, have it hurt a little bit more. She felt as though she was losing her own powers, which was ridiculous. But tempting to believe.

She glanced beside her and watched her boyfriends profile cast shadows across itself, silhouetted against the street lights. She had tried to ignore the strange feeling she got around Jack, but it was impossible. Like a buzzing sound that wouldn't go away. Like a warning.

"Follow your instincts." Chaos had told her once. That was a slayer's first rule. "Your instincts don't lie." But Shade had a feeling her instincts weren't exactly bang on, because subconsciously, she just couldn't believe it. Didn't want to believe it. Jack sensed her gaze and looked at her. A smile creased his face, but it wasn't Jack's smile.

"What's up?" He asked, twirling his stake expertly between his fingers. Shade shrugged.

"Nothing. Why?"

"You look kinda preoccupied."

"I'm not preoccupied." She replied. "Everything's fine." He could sense the obvious tones of discomfort in her voice, and raised his eyebrows. "What? Everything's fine!" She repeated stubbornly. He shrugged.

"Alright."

Immediately, Shade wanted to spill. Misprint being dead. Something being wrong with Jack. Something being wrong with herself. The strange tugs of fear she was beginning to get day after day after day. But all she could manage was;

"Jack? Something _is_ wrong."

"What's up?" He asked again, flipping the stake in the air and deftly catching it.

"Um…well, your powers? Your strength? It's…it's consistent, right?"

"What?" Jack asked, furrowing his brows. Shade pursued the topic relentlessly.

"It's consistent! It doesn't…y'know. Go away, or…_flicker_, does it?"

"I don't understand what you're talkin' about." Jack said, shaking his head in demeaning amusement. Shade stared at him, and suddenly realised. His smile. He didn't do that cute little abashed smile he used to do, on the ever so rare occasion he was wrong. It didn't happen often, but when it did, it said "Jack" through and through.

"Nothing." She muttered, more to herself than to him. "I'm jus'…rambling. Something Chaos told me. Listen. You take Wall Street, and I'll clear the Morningisde." She ordered, referring to the park near Harlem.

"Oh. Great." He said sarcastically. "I'm just itching for a nice, evil _stockbroker_."

Shade gave him a look, then rolled her eyes. "Comon. It'll be good for you."

"A'right. Meet me at the Med. Center at…maybe two." He approximated. "Have fun."

"Yeah." Shade's smile faded, as she watched him jog away. "Right." She sighed, and for some reason, felt the need to watch his figure disappear into the darkness of the city, to make sure he was going the way he was supposed to.

__

I have no reason not to trust him, she thought, as she fished into her jacket pocket for the coins it would take for the subway. Her hand circled around the right amount, and she sighed heavily. _But I don't. And it ain't like I can't tell nobody. Y'know. To get it off me chest._

Shade didn't particularly like the subways. The stench of the city seemed to conglomerate down underground, along with all the people you didn't want to meet during the day, let alone the dead of night. She just relied on her ever fading powers and hoped they wouldn't short out on her when she needed them that night.

Which they seemed to be doing a lot.

She found the nearest station and slowly descended into the ground, feeling her lungs clench up inside of her. If Misprint were here with her, it wouldn't be so bad. Misprint had a way of pointing out even the dirtiest stray dog, the filthiest sewer, or the most desolate apartment, and somehow make it look poignant and beautiful. She was a real city girl. Born in the dirt and grime and destined to stay that way.

__

What am I thinking, Shade thought in self chastisement. _Even if she still were around, she wouldn't be with me tonight. She'd be back at the dorm, sleeping. Or with Spot._

Even thinking the name brought a foul taste to her tongue, and she knew it just wasn't the subway air. Thankfully, the place wasn't too full that night, whether it was the sudden rush of cold air that had taken the evening, or just the fact that it wasn't safe to do so at eleven at night. A ways away stood a middle aged man with a face full of stubble, near a prudent looking old woman, who was clutching her purse close to her with white fingers. Shade smirked and calmly waited for the A train. She'd be taking it to the end of the line.

The train came shooting along, and stopped obediently before her, doors opening with a sound that should accompany a dramatic burst of steam. She glanced at the two people that occupied the station with her, but neither moved to join her. It was the A train to Harlem in the middle of the night. They obviously weren't that daring.

There were a few people on, but not enough to elbow through and fight with, as one usually had to do. A Japanese woman with wiry, curly hair dressed in a pair of purple slacks and a loose polka dotted shirt, under a puffy jacket. A young black man, listening intently to a Walkman. A middle aged, tired looking woman with ancient lines around her eyes that looked sad.

Shade sat down, her stake safely in her pocket, fingers still wrapped around it. She was beginning to feel the initial fear of being attacked all the time, like an incurable disease. She highly doubted anyone in the train would try and hurt her. But her fingers seemed to think differently.

In a strange way, she was just waiting for everything to return to normal.

__

But Misprint's dead, she reminded herself. Things couldn't be normal.

__

I should tell her. Before anything else, I should tell her about who she is. Before she gets hurt. Before things get messed up.

Spot stalked down the bustling streets of Manhattan, alive with the night life, cool wind blowing the hair back from his forehead and pushing his heavy coat open.

__

Stupid bitch…runnin' away. His mind hissed at him. _Hiding behind her friends. Why do you even waste your time with her?_

He slowly descended down into the subway station, mind brimming over with contradictory thoughts, like oil and water in a single cup. He groaned, pushing a few strands of hair back from his face.

__

I should tell her. If she's even back. Maybe she ain't. Maybe she's gone off for good…dead…I could smell blood. Is she alright?

The station was near deserted. Not many people took the subway by night, now-a-days. Mysterious disappearances. Couldn't be accounted for. Victims found with their necks ripped open. It's almost as if the world was aware…but that was impossible.

__

If she ain't, all the better. You can't afford to be stuck on anybody.

The faraway sound of the train, ear-splitting to his heightened senses, sounded. He sighed and pressed his hands farther down into the pockets of his coat. He hated the battle inside of him…Jack's blood fading from his veins…the emotions that the blood carried battling with his vampiric side…the only chance he had was swiftly running out. The slow ticking of the clock hanging high above the reaches of vandalism proved that, with it's meticulous second hand slowly pushing it's way around its circumference…

__

What'll I do if she isn't there? If she's still…where is she? Could I talk to her friends? They wouldn't understand.

The train came towards him, like a silver bullet. He didn't know why he was taking the train instead of transporting. Too much energy? A need to stay in contact with his human side for as long as he had it?

__

So what? You don't need to talk to her friends_. What'll that do? She's not going to believe you. Forget it. Forget for a moment you ever thought you might be…_

The doors opened with a hiss, spewing out three people that passed by him as unimportant as blurred shadows. The only person on the train was facing away from him, auburn roots showing through a long mass of dark curls. He stepped onto the train, and immediately knew.

__

Alyson.

"Shade…" Shade looked up, dark eyes narrowing when the voice rang a bell in her head. Standing before her was none other than the man she wanted to see the most…

Crystalline blue eyes widened in shock as her fist collided with the side of his head.

Spot fell backwards against a pole, only adding to the confusion brought on with the knock from her fist. Immediately, she was on her feet, and had pummelled him again with two quick shots to the stomach.

"Bastard!" She yelled in impotence, stepping back and fumbling in her pocket for the stake that she had been clenching ever so tightly just a few moments ago. Spot looked up at her, a dull ache spreading through him, eyes blazing with fury and helplessness alike.

"Shade…stop…" He choked. The sight of the stake she managed to pull out set off a warning in his head. Before she could swing, he managed to use up the energy he had to disappear, and materialise behind her, he could _not_ risk injuring her too badly. "Put the stake down!"

Shade spun around, eyes narrowed in animosity. She didn't want to play games tonight. She wanted to teach him a lesson. Resort to the old torture methods that had grown dusty in her care. She swung another fist forwards, but he dodged it and managed to send the stake flying from her hands. It hit the ground and skidded under a seat.

"Fuck you!" She screamed, reaching forwards with both of her hands for his throat. He easily caught both her wrists, and with a gesture that was more of a flick than a throw, sent her flying onto a row of seats, her head cracking against a pole. Immediately, she felt a sick, empty feeling resonate from the injury and zap throughout her body, making her feel as incoherent and dependent as a puppet. Moaning, she tried to roll onto her side, but two hands were holding her shoulders down.

She opened her eyes and blinked away the clouds of colours that were forming behind her vision. Spot was leaning over her, hair falling over his face, eyes blazing with an internal struggle. She tried to fight against his strength, but she could feel her own powers drain out of her like blood.

Spot tried to apologise, to speak through the demon in his soul, but he felt his words get caught in his throat. Forced down, he would not apologize. Could not. . . the history . . . The only two words that could escape his lips were the farthest thing from apologising he could manage.

"Where's Misprint?" He asked hoarsely. Shade's eyes blazed in fury.

"Fuck you." She screamed again, pushing harder. He felt his muscles convulse, and he slammed her down against the seats again, only adding damage to her head. She groaned and fell limp under his fingers.

"Don't do this, Shade, _where is she_?" he hissed. Shade's eyes struggled to stay open.

"You should know." She spat back, feeling anger flood through her veins. "You have her!"

"What?" He asked, brows furrowing. She groaned softly. With a sudden, contrite feeling, he pulled back, grabbing the pole with his hands as the train made a sharp curve. The rattling noise of the tracks and the buzz of air conditioning made Shade feel like she was going to throw up. Spot felt for one insane instant like he should reach forward to comfort her. Only one though.

"Don't be an asshole, Conlon." She choked. "What have you done with her?"

"I don't have her!" Spot protested.

"Don't be an _asshole_!" Shade repeated, pushing herself to a sitting position. "_What have you done with her?"_

"_I don't have her!" _Spot repeated, clenching his teeth together. Every surfacing vampiric instinct in his body was throbbing. He fought them down, wanting to keep the situation under his control. "I told you already! I came by to see…well…I need to tell her something. Before I can't."

She stared at him, disgusted. She felt small relieves of strength tingle in her fingers, but she didn't use them. Not yet. "This is the cruellest thing you've ever done." She said, words laced with malice.

"Shade, you gotta believe me." He said, in what would have been an order, but came out more as a plea. "I don't know where she is! I don't know if she's a'right..."

The subway came to a hissing stop, the monotonous voice droning out the station. Shade pressed a hand to her head as she groped for the pole, standing as well, trying to keep her balance. Falling over would not be convincing.

"I…" She said, as the doors slid open. "Ought to give you every cut you gave her. Worse. Bathe 'em in holy water. Slit your throat and near snap you're head off. Nail you to a cross. And…" She sneered. "Wait till sunrise."

There was a shocked gasp behind them, and both turned to see a tall, waif like girl standing there, with short black hair and a few safety pins through her ears. She was staring at the both of them, huge brown eyes flicking from one hostile face to another, mouth open in a slight gape of shock.

"Um…" She said presently in a tiny voice. "Should…should I wait 'till next train or somin'?"

Shade growled and turned on her heel, coat whipping out and nearly brushing against the vampire. Spot grabbed her arm and threw her back across the train with a snarl. The girl squeaked and fled the scene. Shade glowered up at him.

"God. _She_ always listened to me!" Spot paced the train. "She was an arrogant bint as well, but she ended up listening sooner or later. And now I have to work with _you?_"

Shade's mind reeled in confusion, not knowing what sort of game her enemy was trying to play. "Asshole," She snarled launching herself at Spot, forget failing strength this bitch was going down. If she was to die fighting a vampire why not make it the one to start in on this path of darkness? The two toppled over and rolled across the floor. Spot sprang to his feet.

"Fuck it Alyson," Spot pulled down the emergency brake. He strode over to the girl and shoved her back against the wall. "Don't you know?"

"Know what?" Spat Shade, struggling against his hold. Spot noticed her lack of strength, her slowed reflexes, her failing dexterity. His eyes snapped to hers.

"How long?"

"What the hell?" Shade was beyond confused when he let her go. Spot ran his hands over her arms in and oddly worried gesture. She slapped his hands away. She spat in his face.

"Bitch." Spot slammed her against the wall. She cried out despite her desperate attempt to control it. Her head was throbbing and she could feel sticky blood clotting in her hair. Spot released her from his grip and she sank to the ground, unable to force motion into her limbs. He dropped to his knees before her. Her blood toned eyes tearing at his like they had so many years ago. Her little hands clutching at the subway's seats, trying to push herself to her feet. He remembered things she didn't, things she couldn't. And now he'd damn near killed her. There was only one way for his vampiric blood to heal a head wound. . .

Spot sank his fangs into his wrist before holding the wound to her lips. Her eyes shot open and she latched onto the wound. Though her eyes stared over his shoulder she saw anything but the subway around them.

Sarah's eyes snapped open. The straw around her prickled through her dark hair and scratched at her face, like insect legs against her skin. Her limbs were sprawled out across the hay, as though she had just fallen there, unable to move, unable to get up, unable to see the dark, midnight sky above her…

__

Sarah…come to me…

She could see him now, standing on top of the castle, his soft, baggy shirt blowing backwards in the midnight wind. His eyes pierced through the late night, England fog, casting their way towards her…

She whimpered slightly as she pushed herself up to a sitting position, eyes soft with fright and willingness. _Resist…_she told herself sternly. _Come on. Resist…you'll just be playing into his hands…_

The voices grew stronger in her head, and her fingers dug into the dirty straw around her. It was difficult. So difficult. She tried to keep herself sane by picturing the expression on the face of the Magi. Stern…don't do it…don't do it…

__

Come to me.

Sarah groaned as she rolled over and tried to block out the voices. It was going to be a long night.

Shade screamed as her eyes flew open.

The floor underneath her was tilting from side to side as the subway shot through the ground. It took her a moment to realise that someone was holding her arm.

"Spot?" She said jerkily, looking up. But it wasn't Spots face that was staring down at her. A large, beefy man in a dark green jacket with the badge "Subway Attendant" sewn onto the pocket was hauling her to her feet.

"That's right ma'am." he said condescendingly. "Comon now. We're going to get you off the train at the next stop…"

Shade groaned, feeling a warm trickle of blood down the back of her neck. The car was stifingly hot, making her want to vomit, and the mans grip on her arm was too tight for comfort.

"Comon, now." He was saying. The words blurred in her head. The world spun as the car screeched to a halt, and the doors slid open with the familiar hiss.

__

The doors swung open, and Sarah took one last deep, shaky breath, before stepping forwards…

Shade moaned again. Where was Spot? And _what_ had he done to her mind? The fragments of images, like reflections on a broken mirror, were flying towards her. Splintering through her brain. Was what she just saw a vision he had given her, or an actual premonition?

No, it couldn't have been a premonition. It was in mideval times, she could tell by that girl…Sarah's…dress. And the mans clothing…that man…Spot…

"Here we go, girly." the man said gently, as he pushed her away, pushed her towards the door. Shade suddenly had a panicky feeling in her chest, as though she was leaving something behind. Something very important.

"Wait…" She muttered, feeling her tongue thick with pain inside her mouth. "Wait…let me…"

"Sorry, girly, but you can't sleep on the subways."

__

He thinks I'm a drunk, she realised, with inward, somewhat hysterical amusement. _I must look pretty smashed, that's for sure._

"I'm not drunk." She drawled, once her feet hit the platform. He nodded and smiled in a way that clearly showed he didn't believe a word of it.

"Sure you aren't."

"Will ya lemme back on the train?" She questioned.

"No. Sorry."

"But I'm not…" her words were cut off as the doors slid shut and, with an unearthly grinding noise, the subway chugged away. "Drunk." She finished, her words echoing after it.

The walk back was a long one. She didn't want to try the subway again, just in case that man should catch her and be forced to take measures that were decidedly more drastic. Like throwing her in jail for a night. Which he could have done in the first place. Slightly grateful she was going _home_ at the moment, and not curling up in a cold, dark cell, she walked a bit faster.

Her mind was whirling, even though she was somewhat dizzy, and not sure her feet were hitting their marks. But what she had just seen was too strange to be forgotten. The image was like a dream, now, floating in the back of her mind, but constantly floating in and out of focus. She was afraid to think of anything else, in case the dream was forgotten…

The girl…what was her name again? Sarah. Shade tucked the stray strands of hair behind her ear and tried to concentrate. Sarah was obviously getting some sort of vision from Spot…but what was it she had thought? Something about playing right into his hands…so she _knew_ she was getting the visions from Spot. Very unlike Misprint.

Misprint! Shade suddenly remembered the hatred that flooded her veins when she had seen Spot. But he had told her that he had nothing to do with her best friend missing…was he telling the truth?

And where had he gone?

Shade rubbed her hand over her wrist, grimacing slightly. It wasn't healing as fast as her other wounds usually did, owing to the fact that her strength was slowly being drained away, and blood still smeared on her fingertips when she touched the injury. The vision had to be connected to the fact that he bit her…she realised, suddenly, that was the first time she had ever drank vampire blood…she felt sick…

She groaned, and placed her bloody fingers on her temples, giving them small massages, afraid to press too hard. Her brain was whirling around in her head, and she found she was hardly sure of anything. She wanted to run to Specs, but he'd demand to know why she wouldn't have been able to fight Spot off in the first place. There were too many things she was afraid to tell anyone…

__

I'm going to go get a good nights sleep, she thought firmly. _Maybe things'll be clearer in the morning._


	23. twenty three

****

Twenty Three

Shade's senses tingled as she stared at the man before her. His once dark brown hair was graying an his watery blue eyes were slowly becoming weaker. Within him emotions raged and the memory of every crime he'd seen fed demons into his being. Shade's theory was proven true; Cops _were_ stark raving mad. _  
_Her dark eyes flickered over the man and she saw the heart of him, the cancer eating at his lungs growing strong with each puff of cigarette smoke. She grimaced. They had broken into her room and sifted through the mess, taking pictures and making notes and tracing the lines of her best friend with chalk and fingerprint dust. It wasn't only breaking into her room, it was breaking into her life, and she felt almost vulnerable in front of this man.  
"Well miss Mayer, you're friend Faith is missing." His voice was choked with smoke and poison. Shade forced a tired smile to her face.  
"I know nothing of Faith's disappearance, Detective Locklair." She could taste the calmness of her words, as they rolled over her tongue. "I knew she was depressed but I didn't know she would leave like she did. I'm sorry I can't be more helpful."  
"Quite alright" His smile was as fake as Shades as he ground out his cigarette. "Can you tell me about Jack Kelly? I believe you are. . . a couple?"  
She felt her shoulders rise in a shrug. She spread her hands, a sorry smile on her lips "We've been busy with homework recently, but I don't think Jack has anything to do with Faith's absence"  
"I see."  
  
"Alyson?" Racetrack shrugged brokenly "She and Faith were always the best of friends, please don't tell me Shade's on your list of suspects. Mr. Rodgers is more likely of having hurt Faith."  
"So they were close?" Locklair asked, all the while writing in his little black book. Race shifted uncomfortably and swallowed a lump in his throat. Locklair smiled sharply "Was there fighting between them?"  
"Useless bickering. They were like sisters. We were the Three Musketeers, one for all and all for one." He sighed sadly and stared up, heart broken into Locklair's failing eyes. His chocolate brown eyes filled with concern for his friend "Is she alright?"  
  
"Faith was fine" Chaos stated calmly. Her hands were folded in her lap. This Locklair annoyed her. He was so . . . manipulative. It was gross how he was trying to twist her emotions around and get her to say something she ought not say "I wasn't that close to her. Are we finished?"   
Ah yes. Quick, clean, efficient.  
  
"Faith? Damn, I don't know, she was cool. Didn't know her that well." Jack's lips quirked in a light smirk, leaning back in the chair with his feet propped on the table top. He was sort of relishing in this, Shade's scent was all over the place; that distinctive smell of honeysuckle and blackberries with just enough blood to really get him hot. He glanced over at Peter Locklair. Old, decaying. Disgusting. Jack flicked his tongue over his lips, he could almost taste the scent's in the air. "I was closer to her roommate."  
"Alyson Mayer." Locklair nodded. Jack fought the urge to smirk out right "Tell me about her?"  
"Strange. Zoned lately. Really out of it. I mean hot, but zoned" He let his mind wander over Shade "Almost schizoid lately but then. . . girls get like that."  
"Don't I know it" Locklair sighed and Jack noticed the wedding band on his finger. He did smirk then.  
"A great girl, smells divine" He cocked his head to the side "How's your wife?"  
"How did you-"  
  
"I know a lot of things" Stated Dutchy "But nothing about what was up with Faith. She seemed a very free spirit to me. Nice, very passionate about things. I'm sorry I can't be more help."  
In reality Dutchy wasn't sorry. If the cops wanted to try and get involved in something they couldn't possible comprehend, that was their issue. Not his. It was his place to go out and risk his neck so the police didn't find another dead body in the morning. He sighed and leaned back. This was the most boring thing he had ever taken part in…  
  
"Misi? I mean…Faith?" Mondie wrung her hands worriedly. Misprint was constantly on her mind. And it was a good question Locklair asked; What drove Misprint away? Was it Stephan's death? Shade's constant slaying? Honestly she didn't even know if the girl was still alive. No. She was. She had to be. Mondie wouldn't accept the girl was dead. She couldn't accept the girl was dead. "She was more depressed lately…but one of her best friends died, so that's to be expected. I guess."  
  
"The only difference was she was in mourning. Would you be perky and carefree if one of your closer friends was killed?" Bumlets met Locklair's piercing gaze levely. He wanted to scoff, a guy who fought the undead on a daily basis was not going to fall for some police intimidation tactic. Locklair wanted a staring contest Bumlets would meet him head on. "Faith was fine as far as I knew."  
  
"What happened to Faith?" Locklair wheedled. Blink raised an eyebrow. The one eyed boy was pacing feverishly from one end of the cafeteria to the other. Misprint was eating at his brain as he racked it for answers. It seemed the only questions Locklair asked were questions they had no answer for. He stared at the ground.  
"I don't know. We'd grown apart. But I know one thing. None of her friends would have had anything to do with it."  
  
"She inspired a sort of fierce loyalty" Mush replied quietly. His puppy dog soft eyes were clouded with unshed tears and his hands clasped tightly in his lap. He hadn't slept well since Misprint had gone missing and it showed. There were dark circles under his eyes and he had an extra shade of pale under his tan. He licked his chapped lips and stared up at Locklair tears stinging his eyes as golden brown curls framed his face like a halo "You'll find her right? I mean isn't it your job?"

"I didn't think anything was wrong with Faith." Specs stated quietly. He was calm and collected his inner fatigue not showing in the slightest. He looked alert and agile though in all reality he was bone weary running on multiple cans of Coke alone. Locklair looked incredulous "I was never very close to her sir."  
  
"Did she have any lovers?" Gemini stared at Locklair. Was he insane? Misprint and lovers? After the Spot fiasco? Not likely. She shook her head her normally bodied curls hanging limply around her face. A face that was drawn with fatigue and stress. Her uniform was rumpled and she wore no make up at all. Her magic was feeling particularly low and she would rather have had ice picks shoved under her toe nails than sit through an other minute with Locklair. He nodded, his smile disbelieving

"What about Stephen Carter?" He asked.

  
"Best friends" Shade answered, in a firm voice. Locklair raised an eyebrow. "Stephen and her were close. But they weren't lovers. Things weren't like that with them. Didn't need to be." _Jesus. I don't need to get philosophical, _she reminded herself adamently. "His death shook her up, but I didn't think she'd do anything drastic." Shade shrugged. "Are we finished Detective? I'd like to go now."  
"Of course." Locklair forced out a sickly sweet smile "If you think of anything give me a call."  
"I will." Shade lied.

"Hey, um, Chaos."

Chaos wanted to swing around and smash her back pack into the face of the person who had just uttered those words. The last person on earth she wanted to talk to. But that might cause a wee bit of suspicion.

Instead, she sifted her face into a mask of scorn, turned around, and raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"Racetrack." She acknowledged, giving a short nod. The boy gave a small smile, hands shoved uncomfortably in his pockets, eyes down on the floor. There was a weird new stain on it, but it was the science lab. This was nothing new.

"Ah…I was wonderin' if we could talk."

"About what?"

Racetrack shrugged. He was feeling very inconspicuous, after being pulled out of his first class so he could talk to the police. He could sense the gaze of every teenager in the classroom, could feel the whispers of gossip running up and down the aisles. The fact that Misprint had gone missing was full blown now, and even though the police had been as discreet as possible, everyone knew. Everyone. And with five minutes before the bell, it was a gossip-fest.

"Anythin', I guess…"

"I'd love to, but I need to get focused. I'm not doing so well in Science." She lied. Racetrack shrugged, and watched her as she turned and began walking towards her desk. Mentally kicking himself for not being as quick with words as he usually was, he hurried after her.

"What did you tell 'um?"

Chaos whirled around again, looking a little more flustered than she would have liked to look.

"Told who?" She snapped.

"Uh…the police…" He tried to say the word quietly, but as soon as it passed through his lips, he could almost feel the attention of everyone in the room. He tried to look as natural as possible. "About Mis."

Chaos's eyes flashed. "I just said I didn't know anythin'. What did you tell 'um?"

Racetrack looked into her gaze. "Same thing."

For a moment, they were comrades. Lying to the police to protect a friend. But in the next second, the moment was gone. Chaos gave a stiff nod, practically flew to her desk, and left him standing alone in the middle of the classroom, a barrage of eyes on him for company.

A few moments later, Shade came barelling in, hair helter skelter, eyes dark and tired. She caught the look that Mr. Jenson, the teacher, was eyeing her with, and gave an apologetic shrug.

"Sorry." She muttered, slipping into her seat. "Didn't get much sleep last night."

"Gemini." Gemini glanced up as Specs slid into the seat beside her. Already, the class was glancing sideways at the two of them, as though they'd both suddenly start spouting out information in the middle of Social Studies. Specs glanced around, and with a small sigh of aggravation, turned back to the witch. "Anything new?"

"Nothing. And not to sound co-dependent, or anything, but it's harder when you aren't there." She remarked softly, afraid that someone would latch onto what she was saying and horribly misinterpret it.

"Nothing?" Specs asked, sighing and slumping backwards into his chair. Automatically, he pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket, took off his glasses, and slowly started to polish them, methodically and thoughtfully. "This is turning into one of the hardest things we've ever done. Are you sure there's…"

"Nothing? Well…" Gemini trailed off, flicking at her fingernails. Specs glanced up at the note of uncertainty in her voice. "There is…there _was…_"

"Gem?" Specs sat forwards again, hastily pushing his glasses on again and cramming the handkerchief into his pocket. "What…did you find anything?"

"Yeah, but I could be wrong." She said quickly. "I mean, my powers are just kinda…newish and…well…" She looked up at him, her dark eyes afraid and uncertain. "I don't want to assume the worst if I just messed up, or…"

"Gemini." Specs said reassuringly, placing a hand over her own. "Listen to me. Whatever you find, you have to tell us. Even if you made a mistake. It's important that we know."

Gemini took a deep breath, glanced around her once more, then leaned forwards and began whispering in his ear.

"Shade." The girl glanced up. Bumlets stood there, his face tight with worry. "Meeting in the Rec Room after classes. Spread the word."

Shade felt her stomach drop into the bottom of her feet. Bumlets hardly ever looked as worried as he did now, which meant that whatever Specs had to say, it probably wasn't going to be of rainbows and lollipops. She felt exhausted…she had barely had time to slip into the shower, wash the blood off her skin and cover up her wounds, before flopping into bed, and nearly missing the police interviews. Mrs. Mayen had had to shake her awake and point her down to the cafeteria…

"To the slayers?" She asked, trying to regain her focus.

"To anybody that's involved or knows of Mis…well…the disappearance." He said awkwardly. Shade leaned forwards.

"Has Gemini found anything?"

"I don't know. Specs didn't say."

"What did he look like when he told you?"

Bumlets sighed in irritation. "You know Specs. He can make his face so blank, his mother could have died and you wouldn't know the difference."

Shade rolled her eyes. "Thank you, Information Jones. I'll tell the gang."

"Good." Bumlets gave a terse smile, and disappeared into the crowded halls.

"So, what's up with _Jack_?"

Amy frowned. She hated the way Karen would say "Jack". It was so elementary school. Besides, they had broken up at the beginning of the term. Was he really that hot a gossip item, even now?

"I don't _know _what's up with Jack." She said concisely, rooting through her locker. The grinning photographs of all her friends peered at her from the inside of the locker door, and she saw her own face reflected in the tiny hand mirror she had positioned carefully in the center. Her hair was ruffled at the back. She carefully smoothed it down, trying to find the right notebook and fix this fault at the same time.

"Well he got interviewed by the cops, didn't he?" Karen asked, brushing her thick red hair behind her ears. Amy was so jealous of that hair.

"Yeah, but that's just because he knew Faith. Or _Misprint._" She said, referring to the silly nick name her friends had given her. "It's not because he's a criminal or something."

"Oh, of course not." Karen said quickly. Amy repressed the urge to roll her eyes. She hated the way her friends still tip-toed around the subject of their past relationship. It was old news. Yet, it kept coming back to haunt her.

He was the only boy that had ever dumped her.

"So…do you know what happened to Faith? Did he tell you anything?" Karen asked offhandedly. Amy slammed her locker door shut with surprising force. Karen jumped slightly.

"No." She said firmly, glaring at her friend. "We don't _talk_ anymore, Karen. I don't know what happened to Faith. Come on. We're going to be late."

Racetrack and Shade walked along the well-worn way to the Rec Room with almost a heavy, reluctant air. Specs wouldn't call a meeting unless something was super important, and there were only two things she thought might be super important. They had found out what happened to Misprint. Or the center of the earth had been extinguished, and they had to hop an escape pod before earth's gravity was thrown off, and it drifted into the sun.

And Shade figured it was probably the former.

"You know what this is all about?" Racetrack asked, for the fourth time that day. Shade resisted the urge to slap him.

"Of _course_ I don't, Racetrack, I already told you."

"Yeah, but you also told me that Misprint was fine." He said sourly. Shade sighed. She had no argument.

"Well…yeah…but that was for protection."

"You think Mis needs protection from _me_? Shade, she's been captured by Dot!"  
"Spot."

"What_ever._ Bottom line is: She's in danger."

"You don't need to tell me that." Shade snapped, feeling her patience frazzle as easily as the hem of an old sweater. "Now wouldja _please_ keep your mouth shut? I'm trying to _think_."

The latter sentence was a blatant lie. If anything, Shade was trying _not_ to think, to avoid thoughts about what her best friend might be going through. The two continued the rest of the walk in silence, both irritated with each other and the lack of information they were getting.

This would definitely clear things up.

They pushed open the door to the Rec Room, and saw the rest of the gang scattered throughout it, each in conversation with either one another, or someone completely different. To Shade's surprise and slight discomfort, Jack was there, casually collapsed in a bean bag chair, idly flipping through the latest issue of "Maxim." How he had managed to smuggle it into the school was unknown to her.

"Hey Shade." Gemini said, walking up to her, with the shadow of a smile on her face. "Act natural. No big meeting. Just a bunch of us hanging out until everyone leaves for dinner. A'right?"

"Yeah. Shooah." Shade said distractedly. She and Racetrack exchanged a look, before she broke off towards the old bookcase. There were a few, spongy old novels lying at the bottom with dull names. She scanned the lot of them, before stealing an inconspicuous glance around her. There were a lot of people. That meant a long wait.

Sighing, she grabbed a book, sought out a place to sit, and opened it to the middle, and began reading it backwards to see if it would make the text more interesting.

The next thing Shade knew, she was being shaken awake by the shoulder, with a familiar voice hissing in her ear.

"Shade, wake up. Everyone's gone."

Her eyes snapped open, and she realised that she had fallen asleep over the book. The blurry words danced in front of her eyes as she blinked a few times, trying to clear her vision. The hand on her shoulder was cool through the fabric of her blouse. "Shade? Comon. We're starting the meeting." Jack whispered.

"Mmmm?" She groaned slightly, pushing the book off her lap. The Rec Room was as bright, with it's faded cheer, as usual, but outside it was dark and gloomy. The windows were splattered with rain, and the bushes outside were wilted and looked as drab as the atmosphere that hovered around the eleven teens, as they glanced over at her. "Oh…kay…"

Her limbs seemed tense and disjointed as she pushed herself to her feet, without the help of Jack, who had already made his way towards the group of bean bag chairs that they were colonizing. Frowning, slightly, she pushed her hair back behind her ears and practically limped over.

"How long was I out?" She asked, her mind feeling slightly lighter after the sleep.

"About four, mebbe five hours." Mondie said, her usual cheer obviously absent. She was absentmindedly cuddling her kitten, who was butting its head against her chin in the most adorable fashion.

"That's what I could use." It grumbled, the only being in the room with it's sense of humour still intact. "A nice…long…catnap…"

"Shut your mouth, you." She snapped softly at it. "This is no time for puns."

"It's near ten." Bumlets said quietly. "There were a few people who skipped dinner to hang around…and then there were a bunch of kids here _after_ dinner as well…"

"So." Jack interrupted him, looking almost anxious to get out of the room. The focus immediately shifted. "What's the matter?"

There was a tense silence. Shade felt herself chewing at her lip, as her mind slowly snapped into it's alert state. The metallic taste of blood filled her mouth, and she realised she had bit too hard. Racetrack glanced up at her, from his stiff wooden chair beside her, then back to Specs. Specs cleared his throat, obviously unwilling to get this underway.

"It's about Misprint." He said. Gemini nodded, looking even paler. The weeks of searching and finding no results until now had taken it's toll on her, and it looked as though she had aged five years in the short period of time Misprint had been missing. The air became tense. "Gemini's found something."

All eyes snapped to Gemini, who took a deep breath. "Well…I was searching around The Bronx. It was the last place I had to search in the entire city, she's nowhere else in New York."

She took another breath, and continued rather shakily. "What I saw this morning I had seen before, but I wasn't sure…it was just traces, I…" Stiffening her resolve, she said; "And…I…I know why it took me so long to find her."

Shade felt a panic rise up in her throat, but fought it down. It was _not _a time to jump to conclusions. The words were on Gemini's lips, but she couldn't seem to urge them forwards. "There's a certain feeling that a body gives off, when it has held the source of fire. I didn't sense it before, my powers weren't strong enough. But this definitely had it. This body…was…so strong with…" She paused. "It had a huge source of power. But…the fire…it had faded." She closed her eyes and looked down. "The body was long dead."

Shade felt the ground tip out from under her.

Gemini looked up, and when she opened her eyes, she had to blink away the tears. When she spoke next, her voice was choked by frightened sobs. "It wasn't…it was even a body. Just a few bones and…and ash. I think…I think they tied her to a stake and burned her." Her gaze connected solidly with Shade. The girl was looking shocked, her pale face even paler under the weight of the news. "I'm so sorry. If I could have found her sooner…maybe…"

"Nobody's blaming you." Chaos snapped. Gemini recoiled slightly, and returned her gaze to the ground. There was a heavy silence in the room, augmented by the gasps of breath from Mondie, as she stifled back tears. Oddly enough, Shade didn't feel any tears lumping in her throat, threatening to spill over. She felt nothing.

She didn't know why the news had come as such a shock. Shouldn't she have been expecting it? Shouldn't Misprint's death be obvious, considering her position and relationship with Spot? Shouldn't…

She calmly tucked her hair behind her ears, and opened her mouth to say something, but no words were coming out. Everyone glanced over at her, as though expecting her to say something. Out of all of them, she knew Misprint the most. The two had been friends ever since…well…ever. They had met up in kindergarten, when they had both been old enough to receive schooling, and had bonded immediately. And now she was gone.

The words that Specs had said echoed back to her. _To lose a part of the prophecy before their time is a very serious thing._

There was a sudden clatter that made everyone jump as Racetrack stood over so fast that his chair toppled over. Without saying so much as a word, he turned, walked out of the room, pushed out through the door, and let it slam behind him with a bang that could rival the sound of a gunshot. The silence that followed was heavier than lead.

"So…now what?" Bumlets asked slowly.

Specs was polishing his glasses. The only windows into his sadness, fear, and anxiety were his eyes. They were trained on the floor, brimming over with emotion. He calmly pushed his glasses back on, and raised his chin high.

"Now all hell breaks loose." He said heavily.

Gemini and Mondie walked back to their dorm in silence. Mondie's eyes were red around the rims, and even her kitten knew enough not to make some smart remark at a time like this. Gemini's arm was around her waist. The two of them staggered to their dorm room, unlocked it, and walked in slowly.

Mondie let the kitten down, and it scampered over to the bottom drawer of the dresser, which it had become accustomed to sleeping in. Gemini used to complain about the cat hair that she found on her socks, but she didn't utter a word tonight.

Without so much as glancing at each other, the two began preparing for bed, tears streaming down both their faces.

Dutchy entered his dorm to find Racetrack already neatly tucked into his bed, facing the wall, the only light in the room spilling from Dutchy's bedside table lamp.

"Race?" Dutchy asked quietly, shutting the door behind him with an almost inaudible click. "Racetrack? You awake?"

"Yeah. I'm awake." Racetrack choked.

"You wanna talk it out?"

"Go to hell." Racetrack told him, pulling the covers closer up to his chin.

Mush, Blink, Bumlets, and Dutchy made the trip back to the boys dorm together, leaving Chaos to fend for herself. As they left, Chaos got the strange feeling in the bottom of her stomach that this would probably be a good time to call out something comforting. To show some emotion. To prove that she _had _emotion.

She turned and began walking back to the girls tenement.

Shade wearily turned the key in the door, and listened for the click that signified it was unlocked. Everything seemed to be coming in slow motion, almost like she was watching a film with the sound a few seconds behind. Slowly, she turned the handle and pushed the door open, feeling a cool gust of wind greet her as the room came into view.

She cursed as she realised the window had been left open. The papers and junk below it had been soaked with rain that had blown in. She quickly closed the door behind her, and crossed over to the window, kicking the wet garbage away, and closing it with a mechanical jerk of her arms. It was like watching a robot do everything for her.

She shivered, wishing that she had been present minded enough to close the window when she had left for classes in the morning. Why did she do that? Why was she always forgetting these things?

She sat down on her mattress and hugged her arms tighter to her rib cage, wanting to derive some heat from inside of her. But it seemed as though her body temperature had plunged downwards, along with the temperature of the room. Everything was colder.

The fire elemental had gone up in her own flames.

She kicked off her shoes and lay back on her mattress, wanting the tears to come, so she could cry it all out, but strangely, nothing came.

"God dammit." She said out loud. "I'm supposed to be her best friend. Why am I not crying?"

She didn't cry when she found out that Stephen had died, either. She didn't cry when she realised that she was an orphan. Did she even have any tears in her? Or had she turned into a mindless, empty drone? A slayer who only lived for the thrill of slaying?

"But I'm _not _a slayer." She mumbled into her pillow. "It's not like I have the strength any more." Her voice seemed so small in the suddenly huge dorm room. She and Misprint had always complained about it being too small. It wasn't too small any more.

She's dead.

The thought was haunting her, spinning in her mind until she was sure every other thought had been wiped clean. She's dead. She's dead. She's dead…

There was a knock at the door. Probably Mrs. Mayen. She pushed herself off the bed, and wiped a few fingers over her closed eyes, to see if there were any tears to get rid of.

There weren't.

She slowly staggered to her feet, straightened her blouse, and picked her way across the junk-strewn floor. She reached the door, turned the handle, and pulled it open, ready to confront the dorm keeper, but to her surprise, saw it was the farthest thing from Mrs. Mayen that she could imagine.

Jack stood there, his eyelashes sparkling with rain, his hair wet and straggling around his forehead.

"Jack." She said, her voice sounding numb with surprise. Her brain ferociously sought out the words she was looking for, but she came up lacking. "You…You're not allowed to be here."

"I know." He said shortly. His eyes were dull and blank, with no emotion whatsoever. She felt a tiny surge of anger through her own veins, but said nothing. Her eyes probably weren't alive with joy either. There was a brief silence between the two. What was there to say?

"Come in." She offered blankly, opening the door a little wider. He paused, before entering.

She shut the door behind him, in case Mrs. Mayen should come by on her nightly patrol and chance to see the fact that this dorm held two people instead of one.

The two of them sat on the edge of the mattress, staring down at the stained, cheap carpet as though it held something interesting. The rain pounded against the closed window outside, and in the distance, Shade could hear a rumble of thunder. Someone giggled in the next room. Teenage girls. Staying up past the curfew. Gossiping and laughing. She felt the ache of loneliness settle inside her stomach, and for the first time that night, she felt a twinge of sadness.

"Are you okay?" Jack asked gruffly, chancing a glance over in her direction. She thought about her current state. She didn't feel any emotion. Was that "okay"?

"No." She said softly. She turned to him. "Are you?"

He gave her a queer look, tipping his head to one side, as though he was trying to see past her eyes into her mind. She didn't like it. She quickly looked back at the floor, feeling her insides lurch. He was so different. There was something…some sort of awkwardness…

Before she could even finish the thought, she realised that his hands were covering hers. She shivered, his skin like ice against her own.

"You're so cold." She murmured, interlacing her fingers with his. He nodded.

"It's cold outside."

"It's cold in here, too." She said aimlessly. She glanced up at him again, to find he was still regarding her with that same, frank look. She suddenly felt angry. What was it that he wanted? Why was he here? Why was he risking getting the both of them expelled, just so he could come up here and be awkward? Why couldn't he leave her _alone_?

"Why'd you want to come up here, anyways?" She snapped, her brows furrowing in a bit of a frown. Their gaze broke as he dropped his eyes to the mattress for a brief moment, before returning them to her own. She felt her heart skip a beat. For a flash of a moment, in his eyes, was the same, awkward, sheepish spark that the old Jack seemed to possess. He smiled slightly.

"I thought that much'd be obvious." He said.

Shade watched, peering down from the catwalk, as the puppet Shade let Jack lean in and tentatively place his lips on hers. She watched as puppet Shade drew her arms up and wrapped them around Jack's neck, pulling him deeper into the kiss, their lips heating each others. She watched as the girl on the bed shivered, as Jack's cold fingers traced the veins on her neck, watched as he began to pull at her shirt with a feverish hunger in his actions. She watched as puppet Shade pulled her own tie off and kissed a trail up and down Jack's neck, as he frantically began fumbling with the buttons on her shirt, watched as puppet Shade allowed Jack to lean over her, to push her back onto the bed, watched as he placed his cold hands on her thighs and slowly drew them upwards. Watched as her shirt fell open and he kissed down her neck, towards her collarbone, watched as she sighed in bliss, watched as the lightening flashed outside, watched as the room crackled with freezing electricity.

And, for a moment, she _was_ her. She became Shade, as the tears spilled over, as they trailed a blazing path down her frigid skin, as Jack pushed her hips down into the mattress.

Outside, the rain poured, hard enough to extinguish fire.


	24. twenty four

****

Twenty Four

When Shade woke up the next morning, Jack had gone.

She shivered, her body feeling raw and scarred all over, even though her skin was smooth and unmarked. She sat up, clutching the sheets to her chest, feeling as though she had broken out of an old skin and had re-emerged in the world, in a fresh, fragile new one, easy to mark, and even easier to tear.

Her bed was cold, even though she had been curled up tight in it all night. Curled up next to Jack…she ran her fingers over her stomach as she glanced around the dorm room and strained her ears for any sounds other than her breathing…maybe he was in the bathroom getting ready for classes…maybe…

She glanced over at the clock. It was three in the morning.

She groaned and fell back down onto the mattress. The room was a little warmer than the night before…she shivered just thinking about it. How could a room be so cold? How could he have just _left_ her after that? How could Misprint be dead?

Without warning, the tears spilled over again, finding their old marks on her face and streaming out with fresh vengeance. Images of Misprint kept hitting her…giving herself a hair cut, giggling at the way it looked…waving her first pair of rainbow socks around…holding a verbal battle with Shade to see who got to go on the lap top first…stalking Racetrack in grade two, with awed, love struck eyes and a silly grin…lying across a pile of dirty laundry in her boxers…Shade couldn't believe she'd never see her friend again.

And it had happened just like that.

By the time the first bell rang, she was sound asleep again, her tears marking their places on her skin and pillow.

The weeks began to pass by with frightening speed. Sooner or later, Shade was barely able to remember the date she had found out that Misprint had died. She couldn't even keep track of the days…track of the months…her only source of time and order was Chaos, who was so frighteningly organized, it was off-putting. Shade spent most of her time alone.

The effort she put into her school work dropped, and she found she was handing in sheets that got a trifle more than 50% in marks. She had stopped going out of her way to visit Jack, and he had done likewise, as though they were both determined not to see each other. She and Racetrack exchanged brief nods in the hallways, and she avoided the slayers and Specs with frightening intensity. She didn't know why she felt this sudden anger towards them, but it was there, always lurking, like a dark shadow in her throat and mind.

Soon, her teachers started talking to her about this sudden lapse of attitude, when they were beginning to do "so well" before hand. Sometimes, their voices would drop to a softer, gentler tone, and they would inquire; "Is it because of Faith?"

At that point, Shade's eyes would harden at this remark that had hit the nail right on the head. In an indifferent tone, she'd reply; "No, I know she'll come back sooner or later." She hated lying about that. But it had to be done. If anyone found out that these eleven teens knew more than the police did, they'd be held in suspicion. And Shade couldn't get the slayers in the spotlight, no matter how angered she was with them.

After that, she'd give short, quick answers to their prying questions, until they gave up, wrote her a note, and sent her to her next class.

She had even let slaying fall by the wayside. She thought, at first, she'd be ready to kill every vampire in New York, ready to do something with this anger that had flooded her veins and intoxicated her so. But the first night she went out, she realized this was impossible, on account of her waxing strength. And the fact that Jack was rarely around to help her, considering they didn't even meet up before slaying, and just took off on their own. Every night, Shade came back with a new scar from some vampire, and the increased feeling of apathy.

Yet, in contrast to losing interest to everything around her, she became fixed on cleaning the dorm room.

A month after they had heard the news, Mondie dropped by, to see if she wanted to talk anything out with her. To her surprise, she was been greeted by an irritated looking Shade, her hair pulled back into a loose bun, wearing a pair of old jeans and a baggy T-shirt.

The dorm room behind her looked almost _decent._ There were three or four garbage bags stacked up beside the door, practically full to the top, and there was a pile of objects on the floor that she was slowly, but surely, organizing into smaller heaps. The beds were made, there were no piles of dirty laundry lying around, and from what Mondie could see of the bathroom, it had been scrubbed as hard as anything. The only thing left on the carpet were coins, hair pins, and little knick knacks that were too big to vacuum and too small to go around and pick up one by one. The tops of the bookshelves and the dresser were bare, except for a few framed photographs every now and then.

And Mondie realized, with a tug of sadness, there were four or five boxes piled near the bathroom door, with a single word written on each of them. **Faith.**

"Can I help you?" Shade asked coldly. Mondie stared at the room for a few more minutes, then shook her head, fighting back a sob.

"Just…wanted to know where Gemini was." She smiled sadly.

"Liar." Her kitten told her. She shushed it by tapping its nose playfully. Then, with another small smile to Shade, she turned and began walking back to her own dorm room.

Shade sighed and closed the door. Her bones felt weary from the huge clean up she had just undertaken, but she felt good. Better than before, at least. She was unsure if she would ever feel _good_ again.

__

I wonder if this is how Mis felt when Stephen died, she thought calmly, pulling a frame off the dresser. It was beautiful, thick and black with red and orange flames roaring up the sides. And in the middle was a picture that she had seen every day of her life. A picture that she never thought she'd ever think twice about.

Shade was on the right, in her dark, thin jeans and long black top. Her hair was parted in the center, falling in soft waves down the side of her face, which was contorted into a subtle smirk. Her hand was up, and her fingers were parted in a peace sign.

On the left, Racetrack stood, wearing his usual dark T-shirt and baggy jeans that he donned every summer, when school was out and the uniform wasn't mandatory. For a change, he wore his grandfathers old fashioned cabby hat over his dark curls, which still leaked out from the band and hung around his ears and forehead. _That was the summer he had decided to grow his hair out long,_ Shade remembered fondly. _Mis loved that._

Misprint. There she was. She was wearing a pair of dark capris, her waist encircled by Racetracks arms as he tried to lift her up in the air. She was wearing her favourite hotwheels t-shirt, the one that was getting too small and showed off her "lack of a chest", as she had once said, proudly. Her hair was spiked up, exploding around her ears and face, and her eyes were lined heavily with black. But the blue of the irises sparkled out of the frame, and hit Shade with a pain she never thought she'd experience.

The girl had gone up in flames.

She placed the picture carefully back on the dresser, straightened it so it was facing the bed, wiped away her tears with the back of her hand, and continued to clean up the room. It was getting dark, and she wanted to finish before she went out to slay.

Nine days later found Specs on the telephone with a council official.

He knew sooner or later Misprint's death would cause a huge crisis in the prophecy, and sooner or later, all hell would be unleashed. Figures that he had to be around to deal with it. He was always stuck with the worse jobs.

He thought of the previous death of one of the slayers, so many years ago, had caused a veritable explosion in the vampire population. How bad could things get with the death of another?

"How are things looking on the fire elemental issue?" He asked, ignoring the twinge of sadness he felt whenever he thought of Misprint. He hadn't known her all that well, hadn't even trained her, but her death saddened him, even more than just the fact that it undoubtedly was bringing an apocalypse with it.

"Oh…" Specs heard a whistle of a sigh on the other end of the phone. "That. Well, lemme tell you, it's got all us officials scurrying all over the place, papers flying, phones ringing off the hook, rules being reshaped…chaos. But the thing is…" He lowered his voice. "It didn't just start when she died."

"It didn't?" Specs asked, furrowing his brows slightly, making his glasses slide down his nose. "What do you mean?"

"I mean it started long ago." The official said, a hint of puzzlement in his voice. "About…sometime around the winter, we're unsure of the exact date. Whatever it was happened very slowly. Had she been missing during that snowfall in New York?"

"No." Specs said in bewilderment. "It was January."

"Hmm." The official was silent for a moment. "Well, something happened in the winter, man. It's getting out of hand, too. There's this excited sort of pulse that the entire demon world is vibrating with…and something going on in the East, too."

"What?" Specs asked in curiosity.

"We don't know. We're just kind of waiting for the apocalypse."

"Great." Specs remarked sarcastically. But the new information bothered him. It bothered the official, too.

"You sure nothing happened during the winter?" He asked intently. Specs thought back, then slowly shook his head.

"Nothing." He said firmly. "Nothing happened during the winter."

The atmosphere in the Rec. Room was a less than cheerful one that evening, with Gemini and Blink taking up the bean bag chair in the corner, and Mush stolidly trying to cheer Mondie up, despite the half empty look in his eyes, and the counterfeit notes to his laughter. Gemini was restless, toying with her curls, smoothing out her skirt, and fiddling with her kilt pin, as though the searches and failures had left her feeling useless and guilty. Blink smoothed at her hair and gave her brief hugs, but to no avail.

"I can't stand this." She said finally, in an almost sulky voice. He tilted his head back to get a good look at her, but she was looking away, tracing the messages on the wall with her gaze.

"Misprint being gone?" He asked gently. She shook her head, curls bouncing back and forth.

"No. This weird…_feeling._ I've had it ever since Christmas, and I really don't get it. Ever since Stephen died, actually."

"Maybe that's when things started to go really wrong…" He offered, but she shook her head.

"No…things didn't just start to go wrong…they _were_ wrong. And I can't explain how."

"Christmas was a while ago," Blink reminded her.

"But…it's not just that…never mind." She gave up, leaning back and trying to stop her fingers from doing their nervous dance across her skirt and curls. Blink looked slightly unsure for a second, before placing his arms around her and giving her another quick squeeze. He didn't know how many quick squeezes it would take until she felt better, and wasn't even sure if there was a number. But it was the only idea he could come up with.

He gave her another.

"Whoa!" Mondie exclaimed suddenly, her arms dropping to her sides. The kitten, who had been resting in the comfortable arc that they had made, let out a yowl and had to try and cling to the material of her blouse to keep from falling. All too late, she remembered he was there, and encircled him with her hands, and settled him comfortably on her shoulder. Mush tilted his head to one side.

"Whoa?" He asked. Mondie nodded, her eyes wide with excitement.

"I just got this…this _feeling…_" She said, catching Gemini and Blink's attention. Not to mention the focus of everyone else in the Rec. Room. She gave them a nervous grin, before sharing a meaningful look with Mush, and moving closer to Gemini. The moment she was there, she dropped down to her knees, letting the kitten scamper away with an indignant glance over the shoulder. Mush crouched down next to her.

"Did you feel that?" She asked Gemini excitedly. Gemini shook her head, and began undoing and redoing her kilt pin, occasionally touching the tip to her finger.

"Naw. I've been feeling anxious for a while, but…not anything imparticular just now…"

"I felt it." Mondie said, her eyes flashing. "It was this…this huge shift in power. Like a wave or something…no…like a…imagine all the sand at the top of the hour glass suddenly emptying into the bottom like _that._" She snapped her fingers, and giggled nervously. Gemini and Blink exchanged a look. "I know what you're thinking," Mondie continued. "But…it was…it wasn't just some weird thing. I know something just happened. Something _is_ happening."

"I know what's happening." Gemini said wryly, her anxiety making her feel rather snappy. "You've lost your marbles."

Mondie gave her an indignant look, but the excitement from the jolt she just received didn't wear off. Even though Mush was giving her an uncertain gaze, she returned it with a grin, feeling electricity sparkle in her fingertips. Something was happening.

"Slade's dead!"

All activity in the lair stopped, as though someone had flicked a switch, or pressed the shutter of a camera. Every head snapped towards the door, to see Flo standing in the center, her head barely exceeding the height of the doorknob. Her hair, usually arranged carefully in it's concise braid, was messy and fly-away, long strands of it plastered to her face with rainwater. She was completely soaked, her dress clinging to her in dark folds, and her skin marked by the heavy fall of rain. Her cheeks were a paler shade of white with excitement, and her eyes were sparkling, the kind of sparkle that they only gave off when she was close to a susceptible prey, or when there had been a death.

There was a silence in the room so intense, that it felt as though she had gone deaf. Finally, the sound was broken with a series of creaks, as Spot stood, his crystalline eyes cutting through the dusty air into her small, brown ones. She had never had to stare Spot in the face before, and even though she had heard the rumours about his weakness and emotion, she realized, quite faintly, that the weakness must have been wearing off. Because she had never felt so intimidated in her life.

"Dead." He repeated quickly, his eyes flashing with a brief flame of victory. "How?"

"Burned!" Flo said faintly, aware that he was watching her every move carefully. She swallowed and felt her cheeks warm slightly, as she calmed herself.

"Burned? By whom?" Rosie asked sharply, but Spot waved a hand briefly and she fell silent, even though her eyes sparked with discontent. Spot focused his glare on Flo again.

"Who told you that?" He asked gently, but with an intensity that made Flo tremble.

"Nobody told me. I heard it."

"From whom?" He repeated stolidly.

"Corey and Sam." She replied. Spot made no reply, and she continued, feeling almost wrong footed, as though she was speaking out of turn. "I was trailing this drunk up to Harlem, when I heard them in the next alleyway, saying sommin' bout Slade. I knew they were drifters," she said, referring to the vampires that had not yet taken up a side in the war, "but I wanted to hear if they had any information. They said that 'is entire warehouse was burned, along with all his minions."

"_All_ his minions?" Rosie repeated sceptically. "Slade would never put all his minions in one place."

"I ain't finished!" Flo snapped. "They also said that the rest was too scared to continue on without no leader, and skipped town. The war is over! We've won!"

There were murmurs around the lair now, as the vampires slowly began to allow themselves to believe that there might be a glimpse of hope for all of them. Only Spot and Rosie remained impassive, sharing a few glances that meant more than an entire, probing conversation. Without even hesitating, Rosie grabbed a stake from a nearby table, twirled it between her fingers, and shoved it decisively into her belt.

"I'll go check around." She said. "I'm takin' this, just in case."

"Trip! Bones!" Spot snapped, startling his two minions. "Accompany the lady, wouldja? No tricks."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Trip said truthfully, for once.

"Skitch, Killer, Harlem, Scratch, an' Sling. I want you all over the city. Find Slade's remaining minions. Kill 'um."

Scratch barely suppressed a grin as she grabbed her own stake and secured her long hair back into a pony tail. The five of them silently prepared themselves, and slipped from the lair.

"Flo, take a break, kid." Spot grinned, making the young fledgling glow with pride. "You've done enough for me today." With a curt smirk at her, he armed himself with his own stake and brushed the hair out of his eyes. She watched him curiously and, figuring that she earned a question or two, cocked her head to one side.

"Where _you_ going?" She asked. He gave her a cutting look, but seeing her inquisitive stance, sighed. His smirk had been dropped quickly enough, and when she looked hard enough she could see flashes of something in the curve of his lips, and the irises of his eyes.

"T'try an' find someone." He mumbled, suddenly sounding very much unlike the vampire that was snapping out orders a few minutes ago. The remaining minions in the lair glanced over at him uncertainly, and shared knowing glances with each other, but Spot ignored them, as he tightened his grip on his stake and swept from the lair.

"News flash! Straight from the Bronx!" Bumlets said excitedly, bursting into Specs dorm room and waving the letter above his head like a banner. Specs immediately jerked back from his computer, and Dutchy, who had been sitting on the bed and working through a pile of math homework, looked up with excitement. The Bronx, as a borough, was invaluable, considering they constantly had up-to-the-minute news on the demon situation in New York. Specs had once even confided to them that it was the second choice for the location of the Watchers Council. It had someone working under cover in almost every vampire bar and gathering in New York City.

"Good, good." Specs said eagerly, straightening his glasses and spinning around on his swivel chair to face Bumlets. "About time we got some information about what's been going on."

"And what information it is!" Bumlets said, with a ecstatic note in his voice. With relish, he handed the letter to Specs, who began scanning it with his dark eyes. Dutchy grinned. He rarely saw Bumlets that excited. He realized that his co-slayer had reason when Specs gave them the summary.

"Sweet Jesus_._" He said breathlessly. "It says here that Slade's dead!"

"Holy shit!" Dutchy blurted out. "_Dead_?"

"Yep!" Bumlets beamed. "Read the rest!"

"His minions too!" Specs said, his voice getting higher and higher. "The warehouse they were in burned to the ground!"

"That's ridiculous." Dutchy said, glancing back and forth between them. "Slade wouldn't keep all his minions in one warehouse. I mean…unless he's some kind of half wit…"

"Not all of them," Specs said quickly, "But a good majority. The rest scattered, they're helpless without their leader, and no one is eager to step up and lead a diminished army against Spot Conlon."

"That's a good three quarters of our enemies gone, right there!" Bumlets said proudly. He watched Specs for a second, as though expecting their leader to say something. He exchanged a look with Dutchy, and a quick nod, before leaning over slightly to address the boy. "You…you think that maybe, with the war by the wayside…we could move on?"

"It's a possibility." Specs said, scanning the letter again, his eyes flashing with a wild sort of passion. "I'll contact the council. This is definitely news."

Shade had done her share of talking. She had talked to the nurse who, in special cases, played psychiatrist for the young, troubled students. She had talked to her teachers, explaining her way out of lates, absences, missing assignments, and bad test scores. The numerous police men and investigators came and set up interrogation offices in the cafeteria, and to them, she talked and talked and talked and talked until her throat felt like it was filled with cotton, and she had to ask for a glass of water. She had spilt so many words to the adults, she had none left for her friends. Gone, sung like so many song lyrics that always ended up with the same tune, and the same ending. _I don't know where Faith McAlester is. I don't know why she's gone. She always seemed so happy._

Shade figured she had done her share of talking. She had devoted herself to cleaning, but there was nothing left to clean any more, the dorm room was pristine and neat. She didn't want to take care of those boxes, because she didn't want to have to look through them again and see parts of her life that were never coming back. She couldn't slay, she couldn't work, she couldn't eat, she couldn't sleep…she couldn't even talk to Racetrack any more, who wasn't talking to _anyone._ It was like being stuck in limbo, watching the early spring rain change to early spring rain, watching her work habits get worse and worse, watching herself lie down on her bed and stare up at the ceiling with absolutely nothing to do, but think. She had talked to everyone.

So why did she still want to talk?

She sat at the desk. The stolen laptop was glowing in front of her, in what was once before an inviting way. But her eyes were dreamy and unfocused, staring over the top of the screen at the window in front of her. The rain had turned slushy, as though snow was making a last attempt to fall. She watched the way they made watery paw prints up against the window, watched the way they slid back and forth when the wind rattled them, and watched the jaundiced lights of the city in the background. Her fingers were itching for the first time in a month to pry the window open and slip out in the cool, fresh air, that would wash away her depression, or at least freeze it for a while.

With a quick glance towards her door, she shut the lap top with a decisive click, losing her English essay in the blink of an eye, and grabbed a sweatshirt hanging idly on the back of the door. She threw it around her shoulders, pushed her arms through the sleeves, and began rooting around for a hair tie. Even if she didn't kill anything, the night was too good to pass up. There was a strange tingling in her fingers that meant something important, but she was still unsure as to what that was.

She turned back and had to stifle a yelp. Spot was crouched on the window ledge.

"Jesus," she muttered under her breath, instinctively taking a step back. The image of him was blurred and soaked past the rain spattered glass, but there was no mistaking that stance, that glare, those eyes that cut through anything right to her bones, making her feel powerless and frail. Her arms instinctively folded around her middle, as she stood staring at him, wondering how he had been able to realize that she was thinking about him at that moment. Did he? Or was he just there to gloat some more about Misprint, like he had been doing on the subway?

He watched her for a moment with those eyes, lowering his head, trying to press the message past the glass. She shook her head. If he thought that she was going to let her best friends murderer into her own dorm room, then he was veritably insane. All of the feelings that had been connected to Misprint had been washed away by the apathy that had consumed her during the past month, but all of a sudden, she felt a spark of anger, the same kind of spark she had felt on the subway, despite his numerous arguments.

__

Arguments, or lies? she mused, watching the way he scowled. _I wonder. _She scowled back, just as fiercely, before shaking her head. She wasn't going to open the window.

He watched her for a few more seconds, as though she might change her mind, then with a shrug, bent down and swiftly pulled it open. Shade's arms fell to her sides, and a glower twisted her features furiously, as he slid inside with the agility of a stray cat. She had forgotten how much practice he had at opening it anyways. It only made her angrier.

"Get _out_ of my _dorm room._" She hissed, taking a step or two forwards, with all the intention of grabbing his throat and throwing him against the window. She stopped herself just in time, stuffing her hands violently into her pockets. There was no point in even trying. He was now stronger than she'd ever be again. He glanced up at her briefly, as he slid to the ground.

"What are you going to do about it?" he asked softly, pushing the hair out of his face. "Hit me?"

Shade opened her mouth to say something, but couldn't speak. Rage bottled up in her throat, she felt as though she would vomit. On the subway, she had believed that there would be some sort of goodness left in him that would allow Misprint to be released sooner or later. But now that she was actually gone…now that she was actually dead…and now that he was in her own room _taunting_ her about her inability to fight back, she would feel no remorse in driving a stake through his cold, dead chest.

"Get out." She repeated again, through gritted teeth. He gave her a look that nearly cut her dead, and turned towards Misprint's bed. The sheets had long since been cleared away, leaving the empty frame and mattress stark and unnatural. But even so, he could still taste the traces of blood that had been left, it filled his senses and made him want to slash at something. Her blood had been spilled here by somebody other than him. "I said, get out!" Shade repeated, balling her hands into fists and taking them from her pockets, trying to look as threatening as possible.

"I'm not leaving, Shade." He said slowly over his shoulder.

"Like hell you're not." She said, on the verge of yelling. She would have already been raising hell, if it weren't for the fact that it was past midnight. "If you think you have the fucking right to show up here again after what you did to her, you've got to be fucking insane. What the fuck are you doing here, anyways?"

Spot gave her a sweeping look, before turning and facing the bed again, before his eyes let out an unusual flash of distress.

"Wanted to see if she was here."

Shade stared at him in disbelief, furiously quenching the urge to run forwards and shove him. She wouldn't get very far, but the ache was still there, pounding in her fists, making her face twist into a glare.

"I have news for her," he continued in the same sort of voice. "News that she might want to pass onto her…_little slayer friends._ We just found out tonight, and if my sources don't lie…"

"What are you playing at, Conlon?" She asked in a soft, deadly voice.

"Playing at?" He turned around, his brows furrowed slightly, eyes crinkled. "I'm not playing at anything."

"Don't be an asshole." Her eyes lit with a flame of hatred that burned behind the irises. "You killed her."

There was a short pause, before Spot let out a grating chuckle that didn't really sound amused at all. As a matter of fact, he looked almost frightened for a moment. But Shade wouldn't even push herself to believe that Spot Conlon was frightened.

"I killed her?" He repeated. "But…but she's not dead. She can't be. Where is she?"

"Don't play games with me Conlon," Shade warned, taking another step closer. "I know you did it."

"Oh, you_ know,_ do you?" He replied, cocking his head to the side and smirking. There was a hint of something behind the cocky camber of his lips, but Shade didn't recognize it. "Tell me, slayer, how is it that you _know_?"

"Because you're the only one who _can_." Shade said evenly, from behind gritted teeth. Spot stared at her harder, as though unable to comprehend what she was saying. She felt another flame of anger light her insides as she spat out the words. "If anything else had tried to touch her, she would have incinerated it in a second. But she…" She let her voice raise a few notes in frustration at the weakness of her deceased friend. "She wouldn't even _touch_ you. She'd let you do anything you wanted to her and she wouldn't raise a finger to stop you." She narrowed her eyes. "You are the only one that could get her without a fight."

Spot watched her for a moment, with his cool, indescribable eyes, before turning back towards Misprint's bed. He seemed a little darker around the edges, something beginning to show through.

"You think I got her without a fight?" He muttered under his breath. Shade's brows furrowed.

"Excuse me?"

"You think I got her without a fight?" He repeated louder, turning and giving her the deepest glare she had ever seen, before returning his gaze back to the bed. "You really think Misprint was weak enough to go along with the first stranger that offered her a good time?" He said again, sounding a bit more indignant.

"I don't think she was _weak._" Shade said, but she realized, suddenly, how untrue it was. Ever since she had first learned about how Misprint had kept on letting Spot visit her, she had always considered her friend to be frail, and helpless against the demands of this vampire. "I just thought…"

"She wasn't going to go with me until I told her I'd rip your throat out if she didn't." Spot said coldly, bluntly.

Shade felt her stomach twist, in a wild, vicious jerk that made her feel sick. The vampires hands were hanging by his side, fingers long, pale, and elegant in the dim light of the near burnt-out lamp set up in the corner. She pictured those hands running up and down Misprint's sides as his thin lips whispered intimidating thoughts in her ear, threats and warnings…

"Get out." She repeated again. He turned around, and stared at her for a moment, again giving release to that certain something hidden behind his face. She gazed back at him, her eyes devoid of any emotion excepting rage, her face pale and deadly. "Get. Out." She repeated, enunciating each word.

"Tell me where she is, Shade." He said, his voice soft and pleading. Her hands were balled up so tight that her fingernails were cutting deep into the flesh of her palms.

"She's _dead,_ Spot." Shade hissed. "You fucking…"

"Shade, _look at me._" Before she could even move, he was in front of her, hands grasping her shoulders tightly, so tightly she could feel the bruises forming already. "I didn't kill her."

"What's wrong with you?" Shade choked. "You're not…you're not _you._"

"I'm not me." He repeated, chuckling softly and letting his hands drop. Ruefully, Shade rubbed at her shoulders, trying to get her circulation to return to normal. They ached, and were cold. "And you know me well enough to tell me when I'm not acting like myself?"

"Yeah, I think I do." Shade snapped back sulkily. He sighed, and ran his fingers through his wet hair, a lone drop of rain running down his temple and sliding onto his neck.

"I'm…well, I'm not feeling all that _sound_ right now, if you must know." He said, shoving the other hand in his pocket and turning to look at the bed. "Not emotionally sound, I guess you could say. Or _too_ emotionally sound…"

"Spot, what are you talking about?" Shade asked, lightening the pressure on her shoulders a little and dipping her head to one side. Spot turned to see her again, and she was surprised to see real fear and panic in his eyes.

"I mean that…well…" He glanced at the door, almost as though expecting to see someone walk through it, and then began pacing, eyes ticking wildly back and forth. Her words were slowly being processed into his mind…_She's dead._ That couldn't be right. He'd know if she was dead, he'd somehow realize. "A while ago…three months? Four? I lost a lot of blood in a fight. And…I took in the blood of a human too fast." He looked up at her with a agitated glance, as though that explained everything, and she could sympathize. But all he got in return was a perplexed stare.

"What are you getting at?" She pushed. He sighed, and resumed his pacing, feet barely making a sound as they treaded over the carpet.

"Well…along with human blood comes…comes human emotion…"

Suddenly, everything made sense to Shade. His abnormal behaviour in the cemetery, his mood swings on the train. She stared at him, her eyes widening slowly as she came to realize.

"Wait…so, you're human?"

"Of _course_ not," He snapped, fangs flashing quite obviously from between his lips. "You can't bring the dead back to life, Shade, unless under severe circumstances. _Very_ severe circumstances. I'm…I'm still vampire, but…I have the mind of a human. I can't eat, anymore. I can't even _kill_ somebody." He looked up at her again with the same pained, wronged look, and she wondered if she was supposed to be feeling sympathetic somehow. "I just…I have to wait till this wears off…"

He pushed a hand to his forehead and pressed his lips together, as though to break the flow of words long enough to collect his thoughts. When he finally spoke again, his voice was even, and eerily concise. "There are times when I'm almost back to normal. And there are times when the pain returns, it's so...it's so _blinding..._that it hurts. Physically. I get _sick_ at some of the things I've done."

He looked up at her, with an almost injured look in his eyes.

"There are times," he continued. "When I realize that all of this means nothing to me. And then there are times when I realize that…" He sighed, and shook his head, dropping his hand to the ground. Shade stared, surprised. She had never seen him defeated. "When I realize that I'm head over heels in love with Misprint."

There was a silence that seemed to stretch on forever after he spoke those words, broken only by the soft, clumsy ticking of the small blue clock in the corner. Somebody in the next dorm mumbled in their sleep, and there was a squeal of tires outside. Shade stared up at Spot, watching the way his eyes probed at hers, trying to tell her more than he, himself, could possibly voice. Shade didn't know what to say. A part of her was crying out in sympathy, the part that wanted to reach forwards and smooth back his hair and stroke his cheek and mourn with him. And _talk_ with him. She wanted to talk. But there was also the side of her that was suspicious, wondering how far he would take on of his little acts, wondering if he even half meant anything he said.

"And now you say she's dead." He repeated, his words a little harder, a little colder. "And…I don't know what to do. How can you know that?"

"We got Gemini to do a search," Shade said, as quietly as she could. She didn't want to provoke him into anger or sadness, she was trying to figure out where she wanted this conversation to go, the point she wanted to prove. "She found fire source in a body that was no longer alive. In a body that was…basically ashes."

Spot moaned, pressing his hands to his forehead again, in defeat. Shade moved forewords, as though to comfort him, but he stepped back, eyes barely recognizing her as he peered through his fingers. "Spot, listen…" She began, but before she could even get the next words out, he was as good as gone, sliding the window open and slipping out with the same ease and agility as he came in. Leaving Shade alone, abandoned in a cleaned out dorm room, with no one for company but the strands of her thoughts and memories drifting alone in her mind.

Misprint:** WE ARE NOW UP TO SPEED!!**

-timpanis play-

I wish, I wish, I hadn't killed that fish. I also want to inform you that the next chapter coming up is completely new. No more reading over old stuff to get up to speed with the small changes, now it's all new and improved Bloodflame garble from none other than yours truly: Shade and Misi, reporting to you from Vancouver, city of hippies. (Also: **Shout outs** for the faithful reviewers (all three of you) finally!)

Thank you all for bearing with us, your patience will be dutifully rewarded.

And also, if any one catches some kind of continuity error or mistake, please either review or send us an email explaining what it is (and preferably which chapter, so we don't have to hunt), it would be greatly appreciated. You can reach me, Misprint, at francescawasnttherehotmail.com, and I'm pretty sure that Shade is still going under shadehehehotmail.com.

Love you all, and enjoy!

-Misprint  
here's yer knife! ß old times, ne?


	25. twenty five

Twenty Five

It was still dark when they woke her up.

Shade had shed her clothing, slid into some of her softest, warmest pyjamas, and crawled into bed the minute Spot had left. But she had lain awake, staring at the wall for the next three or four hours, running the conversation over in her mind, trying to pick out any possible hints or clues that what Spot had said was either true or false. The anguish he had let out at Misprint's death seemed to be real enough, but Shade had no idea of how good he was at playing the part of the tragic hero, the mourning lover. She didn't trust him, but suddenly found herself wishing she did.

Whenever her thoughts reached that nerve, she rolled over to face a different direction, as though she could leave them behind. But sooner or later they caught up to her. She wished she could trust him. Could she really? If he was that in love with Misprint, would he lie to her about it? Did he keep coming back because he loved her, or because there was no one else willing enough to let him in? The questions rotated in her mind, one after the other, getting more and more blurry as the night wore on and she struggled to forget and go to sleep.

That's all I want for now, she thought in exhaustion, as the lemon cool rays of dawn began to brush the horizon. _To forget…_

And she got her wish. For a little while, at least.

Two hours later, the lock to her room silently clicked open, the handle turned, and the door swung open easily as the window had last night. She stirred slightly in her sleep, eyelids tightening, too far away from the real world to be pulled back by such a noise. But the heavy footsteps padding across the carpet and the rough, steel-like hand on her upper arm, shaking her awake, was more than enough.

"Here she is."

Her eyes flickered open, as the smell of cigarettes and aspirin washed over her skin and pillow. Her nose wrinkled automatically, and she struggled to free her arm from the uncomfortable grip of the intruder.

"What's going on?" She asked sleepily, craning her head backward to try and see. Detective Locklair was leaning over her, face haggard with stubble and wrinkles, eyes glinting malevolently. There was a shorter, chubbier policeman behind him, holding something in his hand that Shade couldn't quite see. Ms. Mayen was standing behind him at the door, one hand on her hip, looking mixed between victorious and worried, as she watched the way he was shaking the young girl. "Detective? What's the matter?" Her insides immediately hollowed out in hope, even though she knew what she had to ask was pointless. "Did you find something?" She managed to pry her arm away, and sat up. "Did you find anything on Fai…"

"Stand up," He said shortly. She wrinkled her brows, and felt a glimmer of confusion in her stomach.

"What?"

"Do what I say."

She glanced at the shorter policeman, and then slowly swung her legs out of bed and let her feet drop onto the carpet. She looked over at Ms. Mayen as she pushed herself to her feet, but the woman's face was sending out too many mixed messages to comprehend. She looked up at the Detective again.

"Is it about Faith?" She asked again, as the shorter one moved around behind her. "Did you find anything? Is she alright? I mean…"

Before she could even finish the sentence, her wrists were gently forced together, and enclosed in the hard, cold steel of handcuffs, with a resounding click that seemed to slam shut a door in her mind.

Her face went blank, and her mouth gaped open in surprise. Detective Locklair nodded once to the shorter policeman who, looking rueful, moved back around the girl and shuffled over to the boxes with Faith's name on them. Shade watched him go, unable to speak, unable to move, hardly able to breathe. It felt as though a valve in her throat had slammed shut, and she was slowly running out of oxygen, slowly sinking underneath the surface of a numb ocean of fear that enveloped her…she slipped under with the final clicking sounds of the shorter cop taking a few, quick pictures of the boxes, the bloodstains on the carpet, and then one of Misprint's empty bed.

"That'll do." The detective said shortly, grabbing Shade's shoulder and roughly spinning her around. He put one hand on her wrists, as though to add support to the handcuffs, and another on her shoulder. All of a sudden, Shade found herself presented with the same speech that she had seen on countless TV shows and Action Movies. _You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to hire an attorney…_

"Wait…" Shade choked, feeling the words come from a place deeper than her throat, from the bottom of the ocean, from the recesses of her stomach. They were too quiet to be heard when they reached her lips. "What _is_ this?"

"Be careful with her," Ms. Mayen said stiffly, the phrase sounding strange in her clipped, brittle tones.

"Thank you, ma'am." The detective said, clearly showing that he wasn't listening at all. Shade felt the insides of her stomach churn, faster and faster, as though she was at the fair and the roller coaster had just done a particularly intense dive. The feeling of the dorm room and the feeling of the hallways were stripped away by the handcuffs and the man behind her. She expected, any moment, to be led out to a cop car with flashing sirens and a camera crew swarming around her like flies. She'd have a microphone shoved in her face and questions fired at her like bullets, piercing and tearing and hurting…

"What did I _do_?" She finally choked, as he forced her roughly along the blank hallways. A few faces peered out of the doorways around her, watching her being slowly led down the corridor.

"You're being charged," Detective Locklair said grimly. "With the murder of Faith McAlester."

* * *

Racetrack heard his alarm go off, but he hardly moved, staring at his wall. He hadn't been able to get to sleep; there was a strange buzzing in his head that kept him awake. His head had been buzzing ever since he heard that Faith had died.

The strangest thing was that he couldn't believe she had died. She was _there,_ there was nothing wrong. He still felt the same as before, as though he believed a part of her was inside of him, and had not yet flickered out. He knew he wasn't part of this prophecy that he had gathered information about, and he definitely didn't believe he was some sort of psychic but…when he felt this way, could she really be dead?

Dutchy quelled any glimmers of his own clairvoyance by flicking off his alarm for him and saying in a low voice that they were planning a small memorial service for Faith in Shade's room. It was just going to be those who actually knew about her death, no outside friends or acquaintances.

"She didn't have any outside friends or acquaintances." Racetrack replied, his voice softened by the pillow. "It was just me, her, and Shade."

"Yeah." Dutchy replied, the word sounding more like filler than agreement. "Well…then come by, okay?"

"Yeah." Racetrack said back, sounding more and more like a recording of himself than himself. He couldn't get over the way that everyone was calling her _Faith_ now, instead of Misprint, as though the nickname separated itself from her at her death. Shouldn't she be called by the name that everyone remembered her by? If he died, would they call him _Anthony_? Would they call Shade Alyson?

Maybe it was all the lying to the police and teachers that had got them into the habit of using real names instead of the nicknames they had thought up a few years back. As though they were a cast off game, the kind you threw in closets and forgot about until a few years later, when you fished them out and reminisced about the good old days. But, Racetrack steadily realized, that he would never look back on these days and call them _good._ The good old days ended the year before.

He listened to Dutchy quietly move around their dorm with the agility of a cat, pulling his blouse over his head and doing up his tie, straightening his glasses and combing out his hair. How could he be so easy going, and so calm, when one of his friends had just been killed? Probably in the most horrible ways you could imagine? How could he do that? _How had it happened_?

"You comin' down?" Dutchy asked him warily, afraid to urge the boy into emotions he didn't want to deal with. Racetrack shook his head, barely moving his eyes from the spot on the wall. He needed some time to think things over, to be alone, to run her face over in his mind to make sure he would never, ever forget her. "I think you should…" Dutchy said delicately, raising his eyebrows behind his glasses. "The teachers might think…"

"I'm sick." Racetrack said decisively. "I want to stay in bed."

Dutchy stared at him for a moment more, his eyes tracing the curve of his cheek which still had the baby fat clinging to it, tracing the ruffled back of his head and the way his fingers were clenching at the covers as though afraid to let go.

"'Kay." Dutchy said finally, softly, as he grabbed his back pack and slung it over his shoulder. "Hey…if you ever want to talk things over…"

"I don't." Racetrack said, a little too harshly, but enough to get the point across. Dutchy stitched his lips together, straightened his glasses once more, and left the room as quietly as he could, as though any smaller noise could set the boy off. Racetrack listened to him go, running the conversation over in his mind, before burying his face in the pillow and wishing that he could fall asleep.

Dutchy skirted around a few of the boys who were trudging down through the hallways, shifting his backpack higher up onto his shoulders and wishing that he, too, could have stayed behind in bed and curled up like a little boy again. It had been a long time since he had been babied by anyone, including himself. But he knew that the one day he missed would probably be the day that Specs had some ground breaking information, or that a vampire gang started massacring students. Being a slayer, he couldn't afford to miss a school day because he felt _down._

Misprint hadn't been his best friend, it was true. But it was a shock to find out that someone you worked alongside with had been killed, even in their profession. The only one who truly didn't seem surprised was Jack, but that was admissible, considering none of them knew what Jack was up to since the winter. He had gone from a solemn, deadly serious seventeen year old who was intent on wreaking revenge on his one sworn enemy, to an arrogant, emotionless rebel who barely stuck to the rules any more. Not to mention never made the effort to go see his girlfriend any more. Dutchy couldn't figure it out, but he always got the strangest vibes off Jack when they were together. And not just the usual uncomfortable vibes, but the feeling that he was standing next to something that was completely foreign and unknown in his co-slayers body.

He just didn't know how to introduce it to the rest of the slayers without sounding crazy.

He exited into the lower hallway and pushed the door open. A cool wave of sweet, spring smelling air hit him, and he sighed. The weather was getting warmer; the school year was almost over. When was Specs going to pull them from this city?

"Dutchy!"

He glanced up to see Specs running towards him, almost as though he had an answer to Dutchy's internal question. Every time Specs introduced a new piece of information, Dutchy would always hope it concerned something in another state, so he could finally get out of New York City. He found himself beginning to hate it's arrogant rebelliousness, it's tortured looking bums and druggies, it's pretentious clubs that lined the streets. Who needed New York anyhow?

"What's up?" He asked, shifting his back pack higher on to his shoulders. Specs shoved his glasses up his nose to stop them from toppling off his face completely. Close up, he was pale, and agitated.

"Shade's gone. She's been arrested. They've taken her down to the station for questioning."

Dutchy blinked, feeling his mind reel in shock, watching the way that Specs' eyes flicked around, checking for eavesdroppers. The two of them quickly fell into step together, as Dutchy's tried to start thinking, to get his mind working the way it usually did. All he could think of was Shade being led down to some godforsaken police station on the edges of Manhattan somewhere.

"How did this happen?" He asked tensely, in a low voice, as the crowd around them grew denser, girls mixing in with the boys as they trooped into the dining hall for breakfast.

"We didn't piece our stories together well enough." Specs said regretfully. "Gemini spilled about the argument on Stephen's funeral…and the party…she didn't mean to cause any harm, it just looks too suspicious. And too weird. If the lover of your best friend suddenly dies in a mysterious and gruesome accident, you don't throw a party."

"Christ." Dutchy swore, shoving his hands violently into the pockets of his suit pants. It attracted a few stares, and he automatically lowered his voice and lifted his chin up slightly, trying to clear his face of any emotion.

"They think she's jealous of Misprint's relationship with Stephen," Specs continued, speaking quickly in a low voice. "It really shows that she didn't care about Stephen at all…and that there are bloodstains on the carpet from when Misprint and Spot got in that fight. Not to mention the fact that she packed up all of Misprint's stuff when she was supposed to just be missing, and not dead."

"Shit." Dutchy spat.

"That, paired with the fact that she's often out at night with no explanation and no alibi…well…I tried asking questions, y'know. Trying to play it up like there was no possible way she did it, but…they're not giving us anything, Dutchy. They won't even tell me how big of a suspect she is, how long she's going to be questioned for or…if they're even gonna send her back…"

"You think she's gonna tell about…well, us?" Dutchy asked, feeling his stomach perform a flip at the thought of being found out. Specs sighed.

"I don't think she'd do that. But I also didn't think she'd throw that party."

"You don't trust her?" Dutchy persisted, glancing at Specs. Specs sighed again and removed his glasses, polishing them slowly on his sleeve. Once the wire and glass was pulled from his face, the lines of exhaustion and age really began to show through in the dark circles under his eyes, and the strained set of his eyebrows.

"I do trust her." He said. "But I wouldn't trust my best friend under the questioning of Detective Locklair. That man has a flair for twisting words around until they don't mean anything."

"But he couldn't possible twist her sentences into anything about vampires or demons, could he? I mean…even if she gave off _hints, _would he believe her? He wouldn't. No one would. They'd just think she's crazy…"

"And lock her up." Specs finished for him, sliding his glasses back on. "This…well, it sounds stupid, but I think she has a purpose. Strike that, I _know_ she has a purpose."

"What purpose?" Dutchy asked.

"I don't know." Specs replied. "It's more of a gut instinct than some sort of conclusion. She's a big part of the prophecy, or this coming apocalypse that's starting in the East, and I want to know how. And, above all, I _don't_ want her locked up."

Dutchy frowned, trying to see to the root of the boys words. But as always, Specs had just explained as much as he had to, and had then kept the rest for himself to analyze. Dutchy couldn't even begin to guess the rest of what was on his mind.

"What should we do?" Dutchy finally questioned. "There are people who know that we hang out with her. What should we say?"

"Play dumb," Specs said decisively, without a hint of hesitation. "Spread the word to the others. The last thing we need is for one of us to be held under suspicion."

* * *

The lone bulb in the room was bare and cast shallow light over the interior. In movies they always make these rooms out be confining and a little grungy. Apparently that was all wrong. It was clean and smelled faintly of antiseptic and old cigarette smoke. Locklair was smoking across from her, the smoke tracing a dismal ladder to the ceiling of white tiles and water stains. He eyed her with those cold grey cop eyes of his. Shade's hands were wrapped around a Styrofoam mug of coffee. It wasn't real coffee, not in the slightest, it was thick and bitter and foul. But it still proved to Shade that there was no coffee that was truly undrinkable. It was just a matter of how much you wanted to drink it and how much sugar or cream had to be added. Shade's hands were slightly warmer for it all but her insides were ice cold.

To put it plainly she was afraid. Terrified. There was not a vampire on the planet that frightened her the way this room did. She was just a kid, just a girl and she was facing murder charges. She hunched her shoulders and wrapped her hands tighter around the cup. Her pajamas would always stink of this room she decided. She drew a shuddering breath and swore to herself that she would not cry.

Her body was stiff all over. She had been led to a bare grey room, with a single chair in it, and told to sit and wait until they were ready for her. That, alone, would have been enough to break her had she not held onto the single thought that she was sane and innocent. The room was anti-septic, pale, humming, strange to the touch. She felt as though she was in a different world entirely.

She spent hours in that very room, each one seemingly an eternity. All the while, she wanted to pound against the walls and scream. _She was my best friend. My best friend! How _dare_ you think I even tried to hurt her?_

"Where is Faith, Miss Mayer?" Locklair asked, taking a heavy drag on his cigarette. The little white wrapped tobacco lay between his lips and the burning cherry of a tip bobbed with each word he spoke. Shade watched it to avoid having to see how truly empty his eyes were. At least the evils she fought weren't human. Here was a man who each and every day saw the devil in every man. Her hair fell in front of her face and she made no move to brush it away.

"I don't know detective," She replied coolly. She was proud, her voice was clear and strong, not that of a girl being charged with the murder of her best friend. This room proved that she was gone. All the hope and faith she had been saving up for Misprint finally dissipated. But maybe it was just that hope can't survive in a room so void of any life. She licked her lips and leaned forwards on the table, staring up at him through a veil of her hair "If I knew I would tell you, I would go there and get her myself but I _don't _know and there is nothing I can tell you."

"Then why," he asked coolly, grinding out his cigarette butt only to light up a new one. Shade watched his zippo flare into flame and thought of Misprint. Shade choked back a sob and Locklair's partner, one Mr. Mattias Ohlund, almost moved to help her. Fat tears splashed onto the hard, worn surface of the table and Shade swore they weren't hers "did you pack up her things?"

"She's been gone so long," She whispered through hot tears. They burned scalding tracks down her cheeks. She dashed the tears away with the back of her hand and chastised herself for being weak. Ohlund was fiddling with the brim of his hat, it reminded her of Race when she or Misi got into trouble. The thought brought the urge to cry again. Shade bit her lip to hold back the tears. What would Race do if his best friends were gone; One to the grave and one to jail for murder. She sniffled pathetically and felt like slapping herself, she settled for pinching the back of her hand, physical pain is better than emotional pain any day. "I lost hope that she'd ever come back. It was too hard to see her things."

"And why is that?" He asked, as if he was talking about the weather not Misprint's death, possible murder. Shade wanted to hate him, she wanted to dig out his eyes with her finger nails. Wonder if Jack would get his big O watching that? She mused but was too busy hating herself for fighting with Misprint to really think about it.

"Because, detective Locklair, she was my best friend we hadn't been apart for more than a few days for the last nine years of our lives," She looked down at the table. Someone had carved their tag into the wood. _Skits_ in big blocky letters. She traced the tip of her finger over those letters. Her fingers were losing the calluses she'd so proudly built up. She hadn't carried a stake in God knew how long "We met in the first grade. She wouldn't ask Race for the purple crayon because she had a crush on him. I asked him for her. We've been friends ever since."

"So why'd you kill her?" He asked, trying his best good ol' boy smile. He wanted to play her friend. She wanted to make him scream. How could he so calmly ask her that? How dare he.

"I did not kill Faith McAlester," She pushed to her feet and Locklair was up with his hand on his gun by the time she stood. He would have made a good slayer, good reflexes and he was watching the room. His back was to Ohlund though, he either trusted his partner with his life or he didn't think he was a threat. Shade was betting he didn't trust a lot of people. She thought Locklair was making a mistake, Ohlund was more dangerous than he looked, she wouldn't have left him at her back. Shade didn't trust a lot of people either, "Get this right, I didn't kill Faith, I don't know where she is and I hope to hell that she isn't dead because if she is something inside of me is going to curl up and die."

"Why don't you sit down Alyson?" Ohlund suggested as he came around to lay a hand on her shoulder. She let him push her back into her chair, but her eyes never left Locklair's. If Ohlund wanted to pretend he was just a nice guy trying to help and get her to confess something he was out of luck "Just tell us what you know."

"Her best friend died brutally and then she vanished," Shade's voice cracked with emotion and she hated herself for it. She scratched at the table absently with sharp nails "I don't know where she is and I don't know why anyone would want to hurt her. She was just a kid like me."

"Why the nicknames then? You in one a' them girl gangs?" Locklair asked crossing his arms over his chest. He hadn't sat back down. Apparently the good detective didn't trust her. Good. He was getting smarter. Shade sighed and folded her hands on the table, resting her chin on the back of her hands.

"Racetrack took up a summer job in grade nine at the Sheepshead Races, it stuck. Misprint can't spell worth beans. I just liked Shade and I get my way. We were the fucking three musketeers," She rolled her eyes up to meet the senior detective's steely gaze "One for all and all for one. And, detective, the three musketeers would never kill each other."

"Take her to a holding cell Ohlund," Locklair left the room. Shade looked up at the younger man. He searched her face for a moment and sighed heavily.

"Let's go miss Mayer, I don't have to cuff you do I?" Shade shook her head and let him lead her out the door.

* * *

"I still say we gotta bust her out." Blink said for the third time.

Specs sighed in aggravation and pressed his fingers to his temples, as though the action would calm the rapids of thoughts that crashed through his head. Gemini rolled her eyes, this time with genuine irritation as opposed to a loving sort of affection. The ten of them were gathered into Jack's dorm room, each and every one of their tempers on edge and ready to snap.

"That's not gonna _help_," Specs told him again. "Even if we were to succeed in blasting her out of a holding cell without anyone else noticing where she had gone and who had taken her, she'd just be reported missing again. Which would arouse even more suspicion. Even if we _were_ to get her out, what do you s'pose we'd do with her, huh? Take her back here and forget it ever happened? This place is the first place the police will look!"

"Then let's not take her back here!" Chaos said firmly, from her perch on the desk. The ever antsy girl wasn't even sitting, she was balanced in a cat-like crouch. "Let's get out of here, Specs, we've hung around this hell hole for far too long."

"It isn't just a matter of us, anymore." Specs told the slayers. "We've picked up a four new children of the prophecy in this one freaking school, we can't just…"

"Three." Racetrack said quietly. Specs furrowed his brows and glanced over at the boy, who had been sitting silently on the edge of Jack's bed. "We've…you guys have picked up three."  
There was a silence that pressed heavily down on the teenagers, and Specs cleared his throat rather loudly, as though to brush the awkwardness from the air.

"Three new children of the prophecy in one school. To just leave…without a trace…it's impossible. It would generate too much suspicion..."

"Hell, you've done it before!" Bumlets protested.

"I can't leave!" Mondie shot back, her hand finding it's way to Mush's, her fingers deftly entwining in his. "There's too much here…"

"You've been chosen as a child of the prophecy, Amanda." Chaos replied acidly. "You don't really have much of a choice."

"I'm not leaving right away." Mondie repeated. "I gotta finish school here. Hell, I haven't even graduated yet, I want to go to college, and…"

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it." Specs said edgily, unwilling to get on the topic of the future. He always felt that the full responsibility of what they were had never quite sunk in on Gemini and Mondie. The extent of their knowledge on the subject had been "cool new powers." "But for now, we have to focus on the problem of Shade, and what kind of cover story we can come up with."

"Remember what happened the last time we tried to come up with a cover story?" Jack interrupted, his lips twisting into a smirk.

"I'm doing the best I can, Jack." Specs admitted. "But I can't do everything for you guys."

Gemini lowered her head and studied the grey patterned carpet. The idea of Specs being only human had never occurred to her. Whenever something new cropped up in her life nowadays, the ultimate solution was to go to Specs, who was always quick with his lap top to snap up information on the subject. She felt a weight of helplessness press down onto her shoulders, as she realized the seriousness of their predicament.

"Surely they can't convict her." Mondie tried again, glancing from one face to another. "I mean…she really didn't do it. Didn't she? I mean…"

"Law doesn't work that way, Monds." Bumlets said, raising his head and giving her a swift glance. "The odds are stacked against her."

"I'm telling you." Blink argued, ready to repeat his argument. "Just bust her out. Gemini is the most powerful Wicca in the world. Can't she do _something_?"

"Would you give it a rest?" Gemini snapped at him, feeling almost as though she was drowning. "Break her out? Have Specs whisk us away across the country? Me included? Is that what you want, Blink?"

Blink looked immediately chagrined, and opened his mouth to take it back, but Chaos interrupted them.

"Will you four cut it the fuck out? Don't pretend that your cute little high school relationships are going to last forever. You wanna sacrifice thousands of human lives across the country so you can make out in each others dorm rooms for a few hours every week? Of all the selfish…"

"Calm down, Chaos." Dutchy cut her off.

"Don't tell me to calm down…"

"We're all…"

"_Please,_" Specs said, gripping his knee caps. "The point _is_…"

"God _dammit_ I need to get the hell out of here." Jack groaned, rolling onto his back and sliding his hands under his head. "How long can you people sit in the same room and talk and talk and _talk_…"

"Jack, this is _serious_." Racetrack found himself snapping. "Shade is in jail and Misprint is…"

"Dead. We've covered this." Jack interrupted.

"Fuck you." Chaos growled. "Just shut the fuck up, Jack."

"Don't tell me to shut the fuck up…"

"I'll tell whoever I want to shut the fuck up. I don't know why you've suddenly become a grand sweeping _asshole_ lately, but…"

"_Please,_" Specs yelled. "Everyone just be _quiet._"

Racetrack glared at Jack in the silence that ensued, feeling his stomach twist and churn like a cloth. The boys lifted chin and greased back hair seemed so casual and apathetic, it made his blood speed in his veins.

"Jesus Christ." He said in a slow, soft voice laden with hot emotion. "Am I the only one who _cares_?"

"Cares 'bout what?" Jack asked.

"_Misprint_." Racetrack replied in a voice a lot higher than he intended it to be. "She's _dead, _she _burned, _and everyone here just shrugs it off like it happens every day!"

"It does." Chaos snapped. "And as long as you insist on getting involved, you might as well get used to it."

"Not to _me, _it doesn't!" Racetrack yelled. "This has never happened…she was…you guys _knew_ her! And now it's like you've forgotten she ever existed! I _can't_."

"Racetrack, we…" Specs began. He always felt awkward when dealing with emotion, and tried to make himself square his shoulders and look the boy in the eye. "We haven't forgotten about Misprint, but we _need _to think about Shade. We need to think about what's happening _now._"

"Fuck." Racetrack swore, and rolled his eyes upwards. With a few, deft, angry strides he crossed the room, jerked the door open, and slammed it behind him with a force that was loud enough to make Jack feel the vibrations on his bed. He fought down the smirk on his face and tried to look as concerned as the rest of them, bar Chaos, who was scowling and pulling at the clumps of tangles in her hair.

"Jesus." Specs said, closing his eyes. He could feel his throat tight with choked comments and retorts, could feel his hair nearly on end from the tension in his scalp. There was a moment of silence as they watched him, and it occurred to every one of them that this might just be the day that Specs finally snapped. He took a deep breath in, felt his lungs sear inside of him, and opened his eyes to see every face turned to his.

"The girls better get back to their dorms." He said quietly, and as evenly as he could. The sun had sunk behind the skyline, leaving the window dark and foreboding. "You took a great enough risk in even coming here."

Chaos immediately slid down from her perch and made her way to the window. Mush looked up at Mondie with uncertain eyes, a gaze that made her stomach twist inside her. She realized that, despite all he attempted to be involved with, he was just a little boy that would need looking after. Something she may not be able to do. She leaned in and planted a quick kiss on his forehead, before standing and following Gemini, who had given Blink naught but a forced smile.

Chaos wrenched the window up, and they watched as each girl disappeared through it, one by one. Specs stood, feeling his joints creak. He felt so very old. He grabbed the few papers he had brought over to Jacks room, stood, and began straightening them on the desk. He could still feel the questions haunting the air, and he turned over his shoulder, his voice shaking.

"You guys wanna discuss any ideas you may have? Or do you just wanna argue some more?"

It was the first time any of them had heard Specs hint at spite. Mush and Blink exchanged a quick glance, before getting up, followed by Dutchy and Bumlets. Jack didn't move a muscle, staring up at his ceiling in forced complacency. Specs waited for the rest of the boys to leave, closing the door behind them, before he turned back to Jack and watched him. Jack was aware of his stare, and shifted somewhat uncomfortably. He hated one on one situations, because it only took a few moments of closeness or a slip of the tongue to give away his secret.

"Was there something between you and Shade?" Specs asked.

Jack furrowed his brows and tried to look confused, as though the question had caught him off guard. Tried to look as though there was no reason in the world there should be something between him and Shade.

"Whaddaya mean?" He replied. Specs cocked his head almost indistinguishably to the side.

"I mean did you two have a…a falling out?"

"You mean did we fight?" Jack said, unable to keep the sneer out of his voice.

"Yeah."

"Naw." Jack said, jerking his shoulders up and down, making the bed shake slightly. "Whyd'ja ask?"

Specs had to bite his tongue. Jack's careless attitude was intimidating, and if he were to mention the apparent coldness that Jack was beginning to show towards the girl whom everyone _knew_ he had a thing for, it would only anger him. So instead, he shrugged.

"Dunno. See you later."

He pulled the door open, and began walking towards his dorm room, slowly. For the first time in a while, he didn't feel like running to catch up with the guys.

Jack bounced off his bed and strode towards the window, eager to get out into the night.

* * *

Spot couldn't think. He couldn't. His fingers were pressed against the soft concave of his temples, massaging, twisting, snaking upwards and clenching at his hair until the sharp pain made his eyes tighten. They dragged down his face and clutched at his shoulders, rubbed together, pulled and pressed and prodded and left red marks on his arms from where they had rubbed too hard. He couldn't remember where he had been for the past day, couldn't remember how he had climbed out of the dorm room window, how he was still numb and dull when he hadn't eaten for what seemed like ages. He felt as though he was falling apart at the edges, frantically trying to pull the seams back together with clumsy fingers, helpless and frightened.

He had been having these spells for weeks, spells in which the cool, sinister, smirking countenance of his old self wrestled with the weaker, ashamed blood that flowed through his veins. He knew the emotions were fading, dying out in his mind, leaving him torn between two courses, two intentions. Every moment, the two voices in his head wrestled, fought, threw him back and forth, battered him down like a child. He felt as though he wanted to rip his mind from its foundations and cleanse it, fix it, take back his unplanned, unusually heroic rescue of one of his most persistent enemies.

She found fire source in a body that was no longer alive. No, no, no…he clenched his hair harder, hearing a few strands rip from his scalp. _In a body that was…basically ashes_. It was insane. Too insane. Too perfect. He felt a wicked, consuming fire lick up his limbs, through his stomach and ribs, through his throat, into his mind. A pair of blue eyes shone from in the darkness of his thoughts, and a shaft of light was thrown across the face. The same face that had bled under his fingers, that had paled at the sight of his form, that had screamed in horror and moaned in longing, the same face that had crumpled in fear under those first, careful, cruel ministrations. The blue eyes flashed with a mischievous love for life that he had never bothered to try and bring out each night, and the lips twisted into a subtle smirk.

Misprint…Fucking bitch deserved what she got…Went up in her own flames…fucking prude…bruised and bloody…with her high squealing voice and skinny, toothpick legs. Like a twelve year old. A little kid.

He felt suddenly dizzy, and staggered sideways, pressing his hand against a shabby fence that surrounded property, which had been on sale for a near ten years. It creaked under his weight, and he could feel the whole world tilting underneath his feet_. I should have told her something before it was too late, I shouldn't have fucked around…waiting…sending messengers…waiting outside her window…She died hating me. She better have fucking died with my name on her lips, she was mine. She was_ mine_…_

Misprint's face blended, wavered, and suddenly darkened. Bruises were blossoming on her skin, tearing open, wet with blood and tears and sweat. Flames seemed to crackle all around him, as though it was he who was burning to death. Slowly, her face blended into Shade's, the hair falling loosely around her shoulders, her eyebrows furrowed in distrust. Spot shook his head frantically as the conversation began to play its way out in his head. He didn't want to hear her speak those words, the words that seemed to have stopped his heart up, dying again. _If you think you have the fucking right to show up here again after what you did to her, you've got to be fucking insane. What the fuck are you doing here, anyways?_

"Shut up, shut up, shut up…" He murmured, digging his fingers against his scalp. Every thought of Misprint made him feel as though he was getting a hatchet to the stomach, splintering upwards through his dried, dusty body and making him crumble and crackle into nothing on the pavement. Every time he saw her face, he could see her burning, still and dark, with flames leaping and dancing in the background. Burned dry, just like him. He was burning too, but with something much deeper and hotter than fire. Something that surrounded the place where she used to be, and throbbed, missing and empty.

If anything else had tried to touch her, she would have incinerated it in a second. But she… She wouldn't even touch you. She'd let you do anything you wanted to her and she wouldn't raise a finger to stop you. Her fingers, her legs, her eyes, her hair, her neck, her shoulders…Spot felt himself sear inside with images of her.

You never loved her, you loved her body. You're mourning the loss of a willing body. I'm mourning the loss of her laughter. Don't be fucking stupid, you've never heard her laugh. We got Gemini to do a search…Just more work, isn't it Spot? Finding some other pretty young thing and breaking her to your will? It's more than just that, it has to be more than just…she's fucking dead, Spot, you fucking killed her…Don't lie to me Shade, I don't want to be lied to any more. Please…tell me she's not dead…please don't lie to me…

He could hear footsteps out of the vague corners of his mind that were still calm and serene, as the battle raged in every nerve underneath his skin. His fingertips were tingling and his chest was tight, sickness and sobs, death and delirium. He fumbled at his pockets for a cigarette, and he realized with a strange, slow jolt in his stomach, that his fingers were trembling. So hard, they could barely open the packet, barely flick at the lighter. He tried vaguely to remember a time when his fingers had shaken that badly, but he couldn't. For the first time, he realized that he couldn't remember anything past the twenties, and he knew he had been gone much longer than that. Much longer.

Slipping away…he lit the cigarette, barely managing without burning his fingertips, and crammed the lighter and packet into his pocket. He felt the flaming tightness in his chest spread to his throat, and he took a deep drag, feeling as though he was going to throw up. He couldn't remember anything anymore. Only Misprint.

I'm glad she's gone, he felt himself think. _Bad news. Skinny legged crooked toothed bug eyed bad news. How did I ever let myself get stuck on that bitch? Let her burn. Let her burn to ashes, let her burn until she's nothing but a black scorch mark on a cement floor. I don't fucking care._

He felt his eyes burn, his jaw ache, his fingers tighten and tingle and turn pale in the icy night. In one wrenching gesture, he pulled the cigarette from out his mouth and threw it on the pavement, feeling the dull slap of the paper hitting the cement echo in his veins, making them twist and blister. He wrenched his shoulder sideways and leaned against the wall, covering his face with his rough, burnt hands, and sliding slowly to the ground until his knees pressed up against his chest, crushing his ribs against the brick, proving once again that his heart was still and cold in his body.

* * *

Shade was given to the attendant. A heavy-set woman with a bland, empty face that looked as though it had been put on along with her makeup that morning. Pasted into place.

"The cells are around the back." The attendant told her. Shade found herself shaking, her narrow wrists and fingers trembling and hitting her sides. She tried to force life into her legs, perhaps it would sear away the numbness that had crept up on them when she wasn't paying attention.

"Cells?" She asked in a raspy voice.

"Yeah. Unless you wanna sleep out here." The older woman replied, rolling her eyes. Shade felt as though she would crumple, like a thin origami piece, a paper doll with a tacked on face. Slowly, feeling as though every movement cost her a lifetime, she pushed herself up from the chair and followed the heavyset woman, feeling her eyes blur and her face go blank.

She pushed her way through a door, another door, another door, all with heavy metal knobs and wire barring the windows. The last one had no window at all, and the woman had to unlock it before it would swing open.

"I don't have to sleep in a cell." Shade found herself saying, as the woman put both hands on her shoulders and led her in. Her wrists had been rubbed raw and sore by the handcuffs, she just noticed the bloody ache. "I can go home. Innocent until proven guilty."

"'Fraid not, kid," The attendant replied, giving her a push to make her legs go faster. "While no one's going to send you to jail, we have to compensate for the possibility that you _are_…well…"

"A murderer?" The word tasted like oil in her mouth.

"Guilty." The woman amended. Shade felt sick.

She realized, with a jolt, that what she was walking past were none other than cells. Cells like she had seen in the movies, where prisoners with gaunt, ragged faces glared and mocked. These ones weren't quite as bad as the prison blocks she had imagined, but they looked just as lonely and threatening. Small white squares with bunks, chairs, and graffiti scrawled along the walls. She thought briefly of the graffiti conversation back in the Rec Room, and it seemed as though it could have happened in another life, another world. These messages were not about who loved who.

She couldn't help but cast her eyes at the people imprisoned within the cells. She expected faces that hadn't been shaved for weeks, emancipated, skeletal bodies, thick heavyset men with clubs and weapons. Criminals. Every cell seemed to hold a different life, and it made her feel queasy to realize that out of all of them, she was the one with the heaviest sentence. Some of the men were covered in bruises, some had torn, battered clothing, some were sleeping alone while the rest laughed and made jokes that only they understood. Some regarded her with sly looks, and whistled once or twice. Shade felt herself shaking again, and tried to force herself to be calm. There was a thin, hollow looking man passed out on a bunk, his toothless, sagging mouth open in a gape, a thin line of saliva hanging from his lower lip. His hair was matted and scraggly, and his skin looked as though it was about to melt off. In the next cell, there were a few teenage boys, tall and gawky and nervous looking, one with a jutting upper jaw and large, dark eyes. They were fidgety and reckless looking, the kind you would see at skate parks, passing back Cokes and marijuana. One boy sat in the corner, huddled, with his knees up to his thin chest. A blazing red Mohawk with dark, almost black roots jutted from his skull, which was covered in the scruffy peach fuzz of a few days without a shave. His face was dark with stubble, and his eyes seemed to hollow out burning holes in the floor. He was scratching at his bare arms without even looking, like clockwork, back and forth. His fingernails were caked with blood. Shade looked away.

"'Oy! Nathan! Quit that!" The woman yelled, banging on the bars, making one of the boys flinch. Nathan didn't stop. The scratching sounds followed them all the way down the corridor.

The attendant reached the end of the hall, and unlocked the second door, before pushing her through. These were the womens cells, where she would be staying. They passed a few empty ones, and Shade stopped once or twice, but the attendant kept shoving her relentlessly forwards. She was to have a cell at the far end, she was told, the ones reserved for perpetrators of heavier crimes.

Heavier crimes, Shade thought, feeling her mind fuzz. Her face, she found, was heating up at the idea of being led past the girls to the end of the hallway. They'd think she had murdered someone. She hadn't! How could she prove to them that she hadn't? She almost wanted to turn and explain to the judging, haunting eyes that watched her being shoved past.

The girls. Thin, nervous, wrecks of girls that chewed at their fingernails or pulled at the tangles in their hair. Girls that insisted on trying to put on their makeup, smudging it and smearing it and making themselves look even more tired than they were. Heavy set girls with doughy, threatening faces and too much metallic lipstick. Girls with long, curly hair and girls with short, spiky hair. Girls with dark hair and blue eyes that looked familiar. Skinny girls with baggy jeans.

Misprint. Almost uncontrollably, the tears threatened again. She took a deep, shaky breath, feeling the lump in her throat swell and threaten to burst. She would not break down and cry in front of these girls.

"What are they in for?" She asked the attendant in a whisper, trying to take her mind off her friend. The attendant shrugged.

"Petty stuff. Drug possession, substance abuse, shoplifting, underage drinking, the like…"

Shade nodded stiffly.

"Hey you!" A girl with a thick waist called, marching up to the front of her cell and grabbing the bars. "You called my lawyer like you said you was?"

"The officers handling your case are taking care of it." The woman told her shortly.

"Damn, I don't trust no officers! You tell 'em that he had better be here by tomorrow! You hear?"

The attendant didn't answer.

They finally reached a cell at the end of the block. It was completely empty, and completely blocked off from any of the others in every way possible. The thin grating that connected the other cells was replaced by a thick, steel wall, and the doors were doubly locked. Shade felt her stomach twist, felt like yanking herself away and running. She felt suffocated, needed air.

"Here we go." The attendant said, not even trying to tack on a cheerful smile. She moved forwards and unlocked the cell with two different keys, before letting the doors swing open, and ushered the girl into her cell. The doors clanged shut.

Shade felt her whole body tremble as the final click of the locks sounded and the bars vibrated a moment before rattling still and cold. Screams bubbled up in her throat, and she wanted to part her lips and let them stream through. She wanted to grab the bars and shake them, snap them, and make them twist beneath her fingers. She wanted to punch a hole through the thick, steel walls and let the air flow through. Wasn't there a window? Didn't these places have to have proper ventilation?

"Breakfast is at 6:30." The attendant said briskly, sliding the keys back onto her belt. "Recreational time is between 7:30 and 11:30. Lunch is at noon. There is an exercise period in fresh air from 2:00 to 4:00, dinner is at 5:30. Lights out at 11:00."

Shade watched her, the information spinning through the air and rebounding off her, she took none of it in. Instead, she cleared her throat, and realized how thirsty she was. Realized how little she had eaten the entire day.

"Please," she rasped. "What…what time is it?"

The attendant had opened a panel in the wall, and placed her hand on a large red switch.

"Eleven." She replied. With a deft flick of her wrist, the lights flickered, and then let darkness sweep down the hall, consuming every one of them.

* * *

Spot heard the footsteps long before he registered them. Slumping and dragging, as though the person was stumbling through the streets, stumbling through a lifetime. He drew in a breath, feeling it rasp against his throat. He was thirsty. He placed a hand to his lips and trailed his fingers along the scars and cracks that covered them, dried them. He ached. Suddenly, without warning, he pushed himself to his feet, catching his balance with the ease of his old self.

Look at you, he thought, rubbing his hands together and hearing the skin scrape. _You're a fucking mess, all because of one girl. One human._

He paced back and forth, hands suddenly still, chest tight with hunger and emotion. He realized there was someone in the alley beside him, someone small, someone defenceless. His mind quickened, and for the first time in what felt like a long time, he felt a flash of hunger sweep across him. His throat ached, dry and parched. How long had it been since he had fed? He couldn't even remember. He couldn't remember anything.

He paused, feeling a curl of his old self touch his lips, making them twist into a slight sneer. He could hear the person breathing, long, low, raspy breaths, desperate breaths. More like gasps for air then breaths. He felt himself turn and move towards the mouth of the alley, peering down into the darkness that contaminated it as easily as the rats and filth. Peered at his prey.

One fucking human, his mind kept repeating, an echo in a tunnel, a scratched record. _One fucking human. One fucking human. A fucking mess over one fucking human. That you loved. You loved her. You loved her…_the figure was hunched over by a garbage can, the slim cut of the back curved over in a painful arch, the shadows of hands ashen and tight against the lid. Ragged clumps of hair lined the silhouette of the face, barbed wire, crushed glass, dark against the dimness of the next street. Even in the smog of the night, he could taste the blood that blew at him on the fingers of the wind, could feel the bruises against his mouth. He hadn't been able to feed, hadn't been able to bear the screams of his prey and the pleas for mercy. But now…he could feel a sick, cancerous desire take over his mind, and the parched walls of his throat were almost too unbearable to endure.

The figure began coughing, a sick, rasping choking sound that grated against his ears and made his make teeth ache. The thing bent down further, narrow shoulders tensing and jerking with every pull, neck strained and bloody. Everything was bloody. The human was covered in stains and scars and blood, enough to make his fingers itch and tighten. The head twitched, and a shadow shifted, revealing a high, curved cheek and smudges of eye makeup. Undoubtedly female, but stained and scarred. He found himself thinking of Misprint, but not of her face. Of her body, and how beautiful she had been with the dark red blood staining her skin, and the thick red burns. _You loved her._ Faith. Misprint. Which one had he called her? He couldn't remember. He found himself throbbing with the desire to touch her, to run his fingers up her arms and legs, to kiss her, to taste her. The desire threaded itself with his anger. With his hunger. The figure choked once more, and a dark stain blossomed on the lid, spreading its thick fingers along the ridges. She was coughing up blood.

Street kids were easy prey. Weak, rotten, defenceless. Nuke or speed pumping through their bloodstream, leaving them oblivious, whisking him away for a day or two after he fed. There was no one around…he wouldn't have to bother enticing them into some dark corner…no need to lie, beguile, press, seduce…Feeling dizzy with need, he moved forward.

She remained hunched over the can, even after the bout of choking had subsided, shoulders shaking with suppressed sobs and desperate gasps, sucking in all the air she could. He could hear her throat peeling with thirst, could hear the whistle of her breath through missing teeth, the cracks on her lips, the stains on her face. He lowered his head, keeping his eyes fastened on the girl, moving so silently that the soles of his shoes barely brushed the broken pavement.

But suddenly, she seemed to sense him. The sharp outline of her thin shoulders stiffened, and her body grew quite still, almost as though in anticipation. He quickened his pace, thoughts of Misprint pin-wheeling through his mind, making his eyes sting, making his chest tighten. He wasn't aware of the night any more, or his hunger. He was only aware of Misprint and her body, her blood. Everything about her had been so breakable, skinny, hard bitten twigs that you could break over your thigh. The girl was skinny…skinnier than Misprint. Much skinnier. A skeleton in an alleyway, tightened skin and broken veins, puffy eyes and a mouth filled with blood.

Her head lifted, a slant of light falling across her eyes. Blue. Her eyes were blue.

Spot froze up inside as a powerful surge of emotion and desire overtook him, shooting through his veins like a drug. She stared at him, unblinking, blankly. The dark smudges on her face almost looked like tear streaks of eyeliner, and he heard the words without hearing them, saw her face without seeing her.

Leave me unholy and dirty and beautiful be, Unholy and dirty and beautiful…At one point, as she whirled around in the middle of her dance, she caught the image of a figure at the side of the club staring at her, with eyes that flamed, melting the colours of the spotlights, then cutting through the ashes to burn through her stomach…"You wanna get outta heah?" he had asked. She was already rather drunk on the music and light, and only blinked at him… She laughed softly as he pushed her up against the wall, helping her regain her balance and her mind from the club... _His hands were on her arms and his feet planted firmly in front of hers, pushing them back against the brick. They were farther apart than they had been in the club, but the distance, now, was a lot less comfortable for her. He smirked at her, the hair from that hung before his face brushing hers slightly_…_The night we met…_

Colours seemed to flash before his eyes, music pounding in his ears.

"What's your name?" He asked softly, tipping his head one way. She swallowed.

"Faith." She whispered.

The face contorted, and the girl was overtaken with tremors that seemed to run up and down her body. With a soft moan, she wrenched herself away and stumbled, uncertain on wobbly legs, crashing into another can and toppling it over, feet kicking garbage this way and that as she struggled to get away. Spot lunged forwards, and with a cat like ease, sped towards her, hair blowing back from his face, eyes flashing.

He suddenly leaned in and hovered near her neck, as though he was going to kiss her, but remained an inch away from the skin. She stared tersely at the other end of the alley. He breathed in deeply, let his face travel from her neck, to her collarbone, up her throat, to her lips, as though he was smelling the very scent of her skin and blood.

"Please…" The girl murmured, in a voice that sparked a sick nausea in the pit of his stomach. She grabbed at the walls, grabbed at the cans, the boxes, frantically tried to pull herself away before he reached her. A sick sneer twisted his face, and he pressed forwards, reaching out to encircle one of the matchstick wrists with his fingers, eager to see how much of a fight she would put up.

"Whaddaya doin'?" She asked fearfully.

"Shh…" He opened his eyes and pressed a finger against her glossed mouth. His finger then moved to her eyelids, which he slowly pushed down, until she shut her eyes.

"No!" She let out a loud yell as he grabbed at her hand, immediately breaking into a fit of choking once more, making her curl over, knees crumpling underneath her, and body weakening.

His face tilted towards hers, and suddenly, his cool lips hit hers gently, driving out everything in her mind. She instinctively drew in breath, and let the kisses come.

* * *

Shade wasn't certain if she was asleep for those few hours. She wasn't even certain if she was awake. All she could remember were hellish visions of demons with thin, clawed fingers plucking at her, and pulling her apart until she was just a skeleton. She jerked her head up, and felt the sting of their claws still burning on her arms. She looked down, focusing through the thick darkness, and saw pale red marks on her forearms. She had been clawing at them herself.

The cement bunks weren't torturous, but they were a far cry from the bed in her dorm room, which suddenly seemed deliciously soft by comparison. She found herself tossing and turning, the thick, cold smell of steel and cement gathering in the corners of her mind and making her feel thick and viscous. Her eyes were heavy and gritty, as though she had been lying face down in the sand, and her lips felt cracked and dry, parched and clumsy. And her hands trembled, at all times.

She had put on a show of bravado. She had carried it through with Detective Locklair, it reminded her of the games they would play in gym class. Badminton. _Whacking the shit out of that birdie, never letting it drop…_she mused absently to herself at one time during the night. One insane, delirious time. _Whacking the shit out of those questions…never dropping a cue…never missing a word…_but inside she was trembling. Falling apart. Coming unglued at the edges and crumbling, long strings of paste still draped over her parts. All she wanted was sleep, something to drink, Misprint, Jack…

Thoughts of the boy made images of her old life suddenly crowd back to her, pushing and edging in her mind, each one seeming more important than the last. Jack. His face appeared behind her eyelids, his characteristics falling into place. The adorable grin of his when his tongue poked through his teeth…the endearing way a few strands of hair escaped the gel and fell gently across his face…the deep hazel gold of his eyes, flecked with ashen grey…the strong camber of his shoulders and arms. Everything had been so good in the beginning. So typical. The girl with the crush on the new kid. She found herself missing those times, when they weren't worried about whether they'd live to see the next morning.

She felt something wet trail down her face, and her initial thought was that of disgust, as she realized that the cells were leaking. She raised her fingers and gently touched the liquid with the tip of her finger, and traced its path, up the side of her face, over the curvature of her cheek, and against her eyelashes, which were damp and salty.

She was crying.

As soon as the thought hit her, the real tears came. Waves of them, pulsing in her throat and pushing out her eyelids, escaping her body, trailing onto the flimsy pillow beneath her. She stuffed her fingers inside her mouth, trying to muffle the sound of them, but they rocked her back and forth, making her body jerk up and down, making her chest ache with the weight of them. She inhaled, feeling it come in swells, feeling her teeth bite into her fingers as her jaw tried to close automatically. She felt ashamed of her tears and her weaknesses, she was _Alyson Mayer._ That girl that wasn't a slayer, but who could slay anyways. The girl who approached every situation with distant cynicism and a reckless flair. The girl who was never afraid to take a shot at someone, never afraid to take a risk.

Look at me, she thought to herself, mind screaming with sadness. _Locked up in a holding cell because I murdered my best friend. I didn't. I couldn't have, I swear I didn't…_

The sobs came harder, louder, and she had to roll over onto her side and curl the pillow up against her face. She didn't want to let any of the other girls hear her weakness, her shame. The cries were ugly and salty, an ocean crashing against a beach in a storm. She needed arms to comfort her, fingers to wipe her tears away, lips to kiss her swollen eyelids. She needed someone to need her.

"Jack…" She whispered into her pillow. "Where the fuck did we go wrong? Things started out so great…so typical. I want those times back, I want…I want you back. I want Misprint back…Misprint…" Her voice was interrupted by another sob, one that nearly choked her as it lodging itself in her throat. "God, I wish you were here. I wish you were here…I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. It all started at the club, didn't it? Everything started at that one…that one fucking club…the one you danced at and the one where I saw Jack and got drunk and they played David Usher and the barmaid said it was free…You're my best friend, Misprint. Even with the slayers and with Jack and Stephen I always was…I always thought…I don't know what I thought…"

She realized she was babbling. Babbling to no one. She held her breath and tried counting, to see how long she could. Tried to suppress the sobs, push them back under, until she could breath without the tightening in her chest. It seemed to take eternity, pressing back the sadness, trying to find some sort of logical device to hold onto, to keep her sane throughout the night. She didn't want to be taken to the interrogation room a babbling, screaming mess. They'd think she was insane.

She rolled onto her back again and took slow breaths through her mouth, feeling her chest jerk up and down, but easier, less frequently. After a few moments, the pain in her throat seemed to diminish slightly, and breathing wasn't a difficult task anymore. Her body slowly began to relax as best as it could on the old mattress, under the scratchy blanket. But the heavy depression still filled her mind with grief.

She didn't know if she slept again, didn't know if she remained staring at the grey, rubbly bunk above her. Everything was the same, contours and lines sketched themselves underneath her eyelids in glowing neon. Every time she closed her eyes, they stung with the salt of her tears.

"I need you here, Misprint." She whispered to the ceiling. "I miss you."

A few hours, a few minutes, she wasn't certain. All she was aware of was the click of a door, the shuffling footsteps, the sleepy murmurs of the girls in the other cells who had been woken by the interruption. Her mind was slow and heavy, filled with dreams she thought were ideas, ideas she was certain were dreams. It was only until the footsteps became louder that she became aware of them. Immediately, her mind began to rotate, grinding away what seemed like centuries of dust from the last few hours. She rolled over onto her side and shut her eyes, feigning sleep. She had a vague idea at the back of her mind that if you were asleep, you wouldn't get in trouble.

The footsteps came closer, and closer, and a slow, warm pit of anxiety churned in her stomach. What if it was someone coming for her? What if it was Locklair with irrefutable evidence? What if it was Jack? The last thought made the warm pit turn to ice, made her palms sweat. _Please, let it be Jack…_she prayed. _Please let him step through the gates and take me in his arms and kiss my tears and say everything will be alright…I want him to be here…_

The footsteps reached the end of the hall.

Her mind spun, and she fought to stay still. _Me, that's me, they came for me. Who is it? _There was a slight pause, the sound of someone fumbling around in the darkness, and then a tinny sounding click. The creak of something swinging open. Her doors? No, her doors were too heavy, too solid. This was something light…

Suddenly, with a loud _clank,_ light streamed into the hallway.

There was a brief moment of silence, before the sleepy moans and yells came, before the girls in the next cell began yelling and threatening all sorts of things if they weren't given a few more minutes…just five more minutes…just two…just one…

Shade stiffened, felt herself tremble, and tried to feign waking up. She stretched, wondering why she had never done so before when her joints were screaming with pain. She laid herself full out on her side and felt a new sort of strength sweep through her, it felt good. She meant to roll out of bed and try and gain her footing, but the attendant interrupted her before she even moved.

"Alyson Mayer?"

She felt her insides twist and coil, and slowly shuffled around on her bunk until she was facing the woman, who looked exactly the same as she did the evening before. She was sliding the ring of keys off her belt and inserted one into the first lock, jingling it a few moments before it relented and clicked open. Shade sat up eagerly, nearly whacking her head on the bunk above her, swinging her feet off the ledge and dangling them a few inches above the ground.

"What is it?" She asked, in a voice that was parched with nightmares and dust. The woman failed to answer until she had unlocked the second padlock. Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion, every click of the lock seemed like a loud bang, every motion was an eternity. The lock clanked open, and the creaky gates swung forward of their own accord. The noise made her ears ache, made her scalp itch. But it released a pit of something into her stomach, something that wriggled and made her feel like she was going to throw up.

"You're coming with me." The attendant said, her words veiling any hint of what was to come. "Officer Locklair wants to see you."

"Officer Locklair?" She croaked, sounding as though she had never heard the name before in her life. The girls quieted in their other cells, as they realized whose cell had been opened, what was going on. Shade seemed unable to slide off her bunk. She stared at the attendant blearily for a moment, before parting her lips.

"What time is it?" She asked. The attendant shot her a strange look, and glanced irritably at her watch.

"Three."

Three in the morning! The only thing Shade could think was that the attendant must never sleep, to be able to appear like that in all hours of the night. She remained on her bunk, toes scraping the cement floor once in a while, trying to blink the sleep out of her eyes. The attendant took the gate and pressed it open further, as though it would get the message across.

"Come on," she repeated again, cocking her head towards the other end of the corridor. "Your presence is required _immediately._"

"Why?" Shade asked, finally managing to push herself off her bed. The groans and murmurs echoing down the hall told her that the girls had already lost interest, probably at hearing the time. She heard a few insults and threats called out, before they subsided and only sleepy whispers could be heard. She paused before leaving, feeling somehow that she ought to prepare. If they were calling her out of her cell at three in the morning, then it must be serious. She was still in her pyjamas, which were damp around the sleeves from when she had dried her tears. She knew she must look a mess, with puffy sad eyes and thick, bloated lips that would be unable to get a sentence out without fumbling.

"They told me that new evidence has been introduced, and it must be dealt with as soon as possible." She said, shrugging. Shade nodded, not wanting to provoke her by questioning further, and stepped out of the cell.

The simple act of doing that was the best thing that had happened to her in a while. She felt almost dead from a less than twelve hours in a cell, and tried to imagine what it would be like to spend days, weeks, or months in one. The thought made her stiffen with fear.

"Come on." The attendant said, shoving her forwards slightly, letting the doors close behind her.

The walk down the corridor seemed longer than usual, like in the horror movies when the quicker you move, the farther away the door gets. Shade was certain they had passed that cell before…she was certain that she could make out the lettering on the door before…she was certain that they should be there by now. They pushed through the door and entered the boys wing, which was echoing with grunts and low pitched whimpers. Shade crossed her arms over her chest as she walked past the cells, and couldn't help but risk a glance into the one that Nathan had been in. He was still there, his dark form huddled in a corner, except this time he was faced towards the wall, his thin cotton wife-beater riding up his back, exposing two thin, curved scars snaking up underneath the fabric, carved just above the waistline of his pants. It made her feel sick inside, and she almost wanted to talk to him. But what could she say? _I don't know you, but I've seen you twice, and I think you're kinda cute, and kinda sad, and you shouldn't do that to yourself…_

Suddenly, her throat seemed to fill with cotton. The door was right in front of her. Through this door, through another set of doors, through another…she couldn't remember how many. She let herself become numb, let her mind fester away into the corners of her head as the attendant led her through the doors, led her out into the office. It was dark, with only a few desk lamps shining here and there, casting dark yellow shadows on everything else.

"Sit," the attendant said, motioning to the chair in the corner. Shade did.

After a few moments, the door to the room opened. A thin band of disgustingly bright light slanted out, making Shade squint. The attendants words came back to her. _They told me that new evidence has been introduced, and it must be dealt with as soon as possible. _She felt herself beginning to tremble once more, and tried frantically to stop the tremors. What new evidence? And more importantly, what kind? Would it clear her name or condemn her? The palms of her hands became slick with perspiration, the roof of her mouth dry.

"We're ready for her." A low voice said. It may have been Ohlund, it may not have been, she couldn't remember what he sounded like. Couldn't remember what he looked like. All she could remember was Locklairs looming face, his smell, the feeling that squirmed in the pit of her stomach whenever he looked at her. She imagined his voice throwing accusations at her, evidence, facts, conclusions…what could she say? She wasn't prepared. What could she say?

"Come on, hon." The attendant said, motioning towards the brilliant room. It was the first time she had used a term of affection towards the girl. What could that mean? Shade nodded, and stood, wondering what would happen if she chose instead to dart out the door and take to the street like a wild cat, clawing her way out of a prison? Her muscles tensed, ready to sprint away, but the stern face of the attendant left her feeling weak and motiveless. Feeling as though she was on her way to her death sentence, she walked forwards. Did they allow capital punishment in New York? She couldn't remember. It made her feel as though her skin was on fire.

The door was pushed open for her and, almost like a dream, she stepped slowly forwards. Her eyes burned as she neared the door, pupils shrinking against the harsh rays of light.

"Come on, now." She looked up. No, it wasn't Ohlund. It was a large black man with a bristly, trimmed moustache, his eyes solemn and deep. "Just through this way."

She tried to open her mouth to affirm something, anything, but her lips seemed to be stitched together. With the most reluctance she could ever remember feeling, she stepped through the door and into the sterilized whiteness of the room.

She felt almost blinded, and fought to regain her vision. There was a table in the center of the room, a few policeman were gathered around it, legs stretched out, faces blue with stubble, styrofoam cups clutched in their hands. They were all facing towards the eastern wall. She glanced at it, and saw with surprise, that there was a large, rectangular window set in it, as though it faced a fantastic view of the skyline or the park.

"What…" She managed to choke out. "Where is…"

The policeman motioned to the window. She furrowed her brows, and glanced at it once, trying to see what was so important. This time, something caught her eye. A small figure sitting in the next room, motionless behind a table. Her curiosity aroused, she moved forwards until she was standing directly in front of the window, and peered into the next room. And what she saw made her legs feel as though they were going to collapse underneath her, letting her smash against the thinly carpeted floor.

The harsh light seemed to outline every feature. Under the scorch marks, the scars, the bruises, the gaping wounds, there was no mistaking her.

Her stomach twisted so hard, she felt like throwing up.

"Misprint?" She whispered.

* * *

SHAZAM!!!

NEW SHIT! It's been forever since you guys have read over a real honest-to-goodness update, and we're sorry. This relocation has been ridiculous, but we want to thank everyone who's stuck with us. All four or five of you.

Considering the amount of reviews we've received, we're combining all the shout outs into one big SUPER SHOUT OUT!

Shout out: You guys kick major ass. Let's face it, it sucks reading over a story you've already read and leaving reviews anyways. But we thank you so much for it. We promise that from now on it's only new stuff, and in abundance. This is the part where we start learning about plot twists and why things are the way they are, and a bunch of lovely little things like that. No more unanswered questions! Yayyyy! We love you so much, you're the cream in our coffee, the milk in our tea, the maple syrup on our pancakes, the foie gras in our Kitchen Stadium. And we wouldn't have done it without you. Awww…


	26. twenty six

**Twenty Six**

_The girl moaned as her head slammed against the brick wall and pushed forwards again, bouncing, hanging loosely like a dead flower at the end of her wilted, withered neck. Spot moved in close, empty veins twisting inside of him at the stench of blood that surrounded her and crusted on her lips. Everything about her was so small and weak, it made him feel sick deep inside his body. His emotions seemed to whirl around in his mind, as water would whirl before it was sucked down into the darkness of a drain pipe. He curled his fingers tighter into her arms and bared his teeth. He hated her, and everything that she stood for, a race of inferior, weak humans that were simply begging to be turned into prey for his kind.  
__  
"You surprised?" He growled up close, mouth almost brushing her lips as he spoke, the words drawn out of him painful, as though he was extracting a knife from his gut. "You shocked that suddenly you're staring death in the face? Huh?" _

_"Please…" The girl whimpered again. Spot's flesh seemed to sear at his skin. "Is that all you can say?" He demanded, his voice raspy in his throat. _

_"Please? Don't kill me? I don't wanna die?" The girl sobbed harder, her body jerking back and forth under his hands. She weakly tried to push herself off the wall, but his hands lifted her higher, pressing her back into the brick, lifting her off her feet. Spot moved in closer, tilting his head up a fraction, barely able to resist the powerful pounding throughout his body. When he spoke, his voice was a ragged growl. _

_"Do you know," he asked her, "how long it has been since I have fed?" _

_"I…I…" the girl sobbed, her jagged, barbed wire hair jutting out over the lost blue of her eyes. Spot shook her once more, letting her back hit the wall again, letting her cry out and slump against him once more. _

_"I said…do you know how long it has been since I have fed?" _

_"No…" The girl broke out, "Please, just let me go. I'll do anything, just let me…"_

_"You're going to die," Spot said, his breath rough and his tone hurried. He moved closer, feeling the forbidden warmth of her body hum at his skin. "You're going to die right here. I'm going to kill you. Someone's going to find your body tomorrow, but you're going to be gone." The girl moaned loudly, but Spot ignored her, feeling the words spill out. "I'm going to bite you," he told her, relishing in the sound of the phrase on his tongue. "And I'm going to rip and tear at you until there's nothing left, until I'm not hungry anymore. Until I'm not fucking hungry anymore, you understand?" _

_"Don't…" _

_"This is going to be so sweet," Spot said, his voice broken by the low strains of laughter. "This is going to be so, so sweet…" The girl's sobs broke anew, washing over the rim of her eyes and breaking against the sharp ridge of her jaw line. She was shaking her head and moving her fingers and shoulders, trying to push herself off the wall and away, but she couldn't move past Spot's hands. Spot moved his face up a fraction of an inch as she pushed her face away, the moonlight catching on an intricate web of scratches moving out from the corner of her eye, still fairly fresh in her skin. Spot pulled his lips back, baring his teeth, feeling them grit together and clench tightly. Jaw locked, he pressed his face against her throat, the delicious warmth pulsing through her making his whole body simply ache in a longing that he hadn't known possible. He inhaled deeply, catching the scent of blueberries and salt mingled with her flesh and blood. "I'm going to bite you," he said evenly, enjoying the way she drew in breath and stiffened, chest shaking with sobs that had been forced back. _

_"Look at me," he demanded, pulling back and letting his gaze drill against her skin. "Look at me, for Christ's sake," he rasped, grabbing the arc of her chin with one hand and wrenching her gaze to his. The curve of her eyes widened as they caught in his own, freezing in her face as their stares interlocked. Spot's chest was shaking too, and his eyes were flashing with shock and fury and a thousand different emotions desperately trying to clench at his mind as they faded. "I'm going to bite you," he said again, watching the fear flare in her gaze. "And I'm going to drain you, pull at every last drop of blood in your body until there is nothing left of you anymore." He paused, and felt his face twist into a sneer that was entwined with passion and sadness and a deep, aching longing. He held her gaze for what seemed like eternity in that one moment. His lips parted, and the words seemed to pull out from inside of him. "And then I'm going to laugh." _

_He moved in, hands clenching at her skin, pulling her body towards him. The girl cried and crumpled in his arms, sobbing wildly and whispering his name to his throat as he pressed his mouth against her forehead in a fierce kiss, and then her temple, the rise of her cheekbone, the scarred corners of her eyes, the shining skin of her eyelids and the soft curve of her jaw line. And then, as her arms snaked up against his chest, he pulled her towards him in a fierce embrace, clutching her to him as though he could never bear to let go._

Shade was barely aware of anything anymore. The room only served as a backdrop, the smooth gentle voice of the cop as a strange buzzing in her ears, rising and falling in tone, laying every fact out before her eyes. She found her knees weakening, and before she knew it, she had collapsed into a hard wooden chair that had been pressed up against the back of her legs. The only focal point that seemed to exist was the sight of the skinny, beaten girl on the other side of the looking glass, staring tersely ahead of her and twisting her fingers against one another, as though waiting. Shade couldn't believe it. Only moments ago, this girl was dead.

"Can…is…can she see me?" She asked breathlessly, as Misprint's eyes darted around the room and landed gently on the mirror. Shade could have sworn that their gazes met, and she moved to get up from the chair, but in the next second Misprint had flinched visibly and looked down at her hands again, a slight flush coloring the bruises on her cheeks. Shade's eyebrows pulled in against one another, and the cop laid a gentle hand on her shoulder, as though preventing her from standing.

"No," he told her. "It's a two way mirror. We can see her, but she can't see us."

So in Shade's eyes, Misprint had only seen her own reflection. No wonder she had flinched. Shade's blood seemed to boil within her veins as her eyes began to travel over her friend. She was wearing a pair of pajamas that looked as though they belonged to someone else, someone who was not as small as she seemed to be under the harsh, yellow pool of light in the dark, dark room. She was tidy and clean and strung together at the seams, but her skin was sore and dark with bruises, and patches of flesh were swollen and raised on her pale body. Both eyes were puffy with purple swells, and the jagged, stitched line of a scar on her chin barely kissed her bottom lip, which was swollen slightly, making her whole face seemed sad and heavy. Shade's fingers clenched tightly around the arm rests of the chair, and she knew that her eyes were flashing with anger in the most frightening way.

The cop was still speaking, his smooth voice almost like concrete, heavy and solidifying in the pit of her stomach. Misprint had been found unconscious outside the hospital where the nurses had recognized her photo from the paper…she had been cleaned and stitched up and the authorities had been notified…after some questioning, she and Shade would be escorted back to the school where they would not attend classes for a period of a month or longer if need be…while Misprint was suffering from no long term damage, the emotional damage would be greater and she would need to be treated with extreme caution and consideration…

"Who did this to her?" Shade forced out through clenched teeth. The cop paused in his speech, and glanced down once at the girl in the chair.

Her shadowy reflection on the mirror made his stomach contract slightly. Every angle and line in her face seemed to radiate power and anger that felt strong enough to break glass and skin. He cleared his throat.

"That's what we mean to find out in the questioning, Ms. Mayer," He said gently. "Detective Locklair will be in to begin the procedure very soon…at that point you will be escorted to a separate room."

Shade's head was buzzing. The sight of her friend was enough to keep her in shock for days, but the words seemed to ring an alarm bell deep in the corners of her mind. She thought of Detective Locklair's harsh, dark edges and her friends bruised fragility. Misprint accidentally ripped open a scab on her finger and winced, her face crumpling like a bruised fruit, and she brought it to her mouth and gently pressed it to her lips. The blood stained her skin.

"Don't let him…don't let him say shit to her," Shade said, as the cop helped her up from the chair.

"Don't let him make her say shit that she doesn't mean…don't…tell him to…"

"Detective Locklair has been on the force for upwards of fifteen years," The cop told her reassuringly. "He knows how to handle these cases."

"Can I see her?" Shade asked, as her guide turned her towards the door. Her head twisted backwards to stare at her friend, unable to tear her eyes away. The sight of her moving and breathing and living made her want to reel backwards, it was the unexpected, crushingly powerful wake up call from the hellish nightmare that no longer seemed like it had happened at all. "Can I talk to her?"

The cop sighed, and Shade caught a note of regret in his tone. Shade glanced at the door once to stop from stumbling, her mind still burning with Misprint's image.

"I'm afraid not. We don't want…it's best she gets the preliminary questioning over with. The faster it gets done, the faster you two will get to see each other again." Shade twisted around once more, desperate. Misprint had pulled her finger hastily away from her mouth, and had a horrified expression on her face, the blood still shining on her lips and tongue. Shade felt like crying. They didn't want them to see one another so they couldn't come up with a cover story, something that was plausible and legal and easily solved. They wanted to know what had happened to her. Shade wanted to know what had happened to her. Before she could get one last look at her friend, the dark shadow of Detective Locklair pushed it's way into the window, and his voice buzzed steely and indifferent over the speakers.

"Detective Locklair, Ms. McAlester."

Shade was pushed out the door.

Misprint felt as though she was hollow, as though her insides had been burned away over the past few months. She hesitated, and then raised her eyes until they were caught up in the gaze of the detective sitting across from her. Locklair. He had introduced himself when he walked in, in a brisk, dark voice that made it seem as though he hadn't meant to speak to her at all. And now he just sat, watching her, his eyes skimming over her wounds and narrowing in repulsion. Something about him told her to keep her silence, even though questions were pushing at the thin insides of her lips. What's going on? Why won't anyone explain anything to me? Why am I in this room? I want to go home…

She cleared her throat and dropped her gaze back to her hands, which were gripping her kneecaps so tight, she was certain they would snap in her very fingers. They were so thin…she was amazed at the way her bones protruded even farther than they had before, and criss crossed in outlines across her body. She didn't know her bones were that thin. She hadn't been aware of it. Of how much was she not aware?

"Ms. McAlester." The Detective spoke. His very words were weighted down with expectations. Misprint looked up again, but concentrated on his shoulder, his uniform rumpled and shabby. "Everyone thought you were dead."

The tone was surprisingly gentle. Misprint glanced at his face, and felt the enquiring look in his eyes press her back into her chair. She felt her stomach twist slightly, and thought of her friends back in their dorms. They would all be sleeping now, perhaps their pillows would be wet with tears, perhaps not. Perhaps they knew she was back. Perhaps not.

"Did they?" She asked. Her voice was more of a croak than his, it felt as though she had never used it before. He nodded, breathing through his nose. The smell of the cigarette was unfurling across the table, and it made a fluttery sort of panic twist her stomach harder.

"But here you are." He continued, leaning back in his chair. "After three months. We've been searching for you, you know." His voice got heavier. "Combing the whole city. Not a trace."

Misprint said nothing, staring harshly at the fake grain on the table. She didn't know what it was he wanted to get out of her, didn't know which secrets she was supposed to guard any more. Secrets had spilled from her lips for three months, she wasn't even certain she still had the ability to lie. Detective Locklair watched her for a moment more, then placed his hands on the table and pushed himself to his feet, his chair scraping harshly against the cement floor.

"I can see you're upset." He said gently, pushing his cigarette between his lips so it bobbed when he spoke. "I'll be honest with you. We've talked with your friend Alyson…"

"Alyson?" Misprint's head jerked up, her eyes glimmering slightly. "Sh…Is she here?"

Locklair raised his eyebrows.

"Whether she's here or not isn't pertinent to this interrogation." Misprint felt her breath roughly push up from her lungs. She had thought of her friends constantly, but the idea of being near to one another made excitement and a deep longing course through her veins.

"Can I talk to her?" She asked, picking at the loose skin on her fingers. "I haven't…Please?"

"Unfortunately not." Locklair said, his lips quirking in a shadow of a smirk. "As I was going to say…we were talking to Alyson, and there seem to be a lot of weak excuses…holes in her story…do you understand?"

Misprint's eyes narrowed.

"I…"

"We just want to know if you can fill in some of these holes for us." His tone became jovial again. "Then we can write up a report, submit it, and send the both of you back home." He smiled. "Easy."

Misprint dropped her gaze to her fingers again. His voice echoed in her head. Holes in her story…she didn't completely trust him. But what could they possibly do? She was back. Things were fine. She glanced down at her scarred arms, and winced. Relatively fine.

"I think the biggest question, Ms. McAlester, is where you were." The detective leaned on the table, eyes tight on her own. "I don't think you realize how panicked your friends were, how panicked the school was, when you were found missing. For three months, no less."

Misprint remained silent, staring at her hands, thoughts whirling in her sore, aching mind. She could feel the expectancy stifling her, as though she was drowning in it.

"I ran away." She said finally, quietly, as though ashamed. There was a snort of impatience from the Detective, which was quickly turned into a polite cough.

"Don't think we haven't thought of that, Ms. McAlester." He said in a gentle tone of voice that made the hairs on the back of her neck tighten. "If you ran away, why didn't you pack a change of clothing? Maybe grab some spare cash?"

"I…"

"I understand you had many good friends at the school. We can find no reason for you leaving them."

"I didn't…"

"There was blood all over your pillow, Ms. McAlester." The words stopped Misprint, froze up her excuses on her tongue. She didn't dare look up at the detective, she didn't want him to see the utter fear and guilt in her eyes. She should have realized that worming out of her disappearance wouldn't be that easy. There was a slight pause, and then the scraping of a chair as the detective sat down again.

"If you want to tell the truth, Ms. McAlester," He said casually, as though addressing a stranger. "And reveal to us why you really were gone, I can choose to forget that you lied to the New York Police Department."

Misprint sighed and clenched her hands tightly together, feeling her stomach churn. There was something much larger than just a complete report riding on this. She could tell by his intensity. What exactly happened while she was away? And why was Shade at the police department at this time of the night? She looked up, finally, and wasn't surprised to see him looking right back at her.

"Why is Sha…why is Alyson here?" She asked tightly. The Detective let his face lapse into a tight smile.

"You can call her Shade if you like, Ms. McAlester," He told her. "We know about your little nicknames, and if it makes you feel more comfortable…"

"Why is she here, then?" Misprint persisted.

"There's obvious evidence of foul play concerning your disappearance." The Detective said quickly. "We had to make certain that everyone involved with you was put through a thorough investigation."

He gave her an appraising look, before closing his eyes and taking a drag of his cigarette. Misprint felt as though she was balancing on some kind of tightrope in the dark, blindly stepping ahead of her, praying that she wouldn't fall, praying that the wire wouldn't snap. Did Detective Locklair mean that Shade was a suspect? Was that the reason for the questions, the intensity, the atmosphere? She nodded slowly, and returned her eyes to her hands. She was certain that whatever she said would get back to Shade. They weren't just going to fill in holes in her story, they were going to question her, to see if her story matched up. Misprint's mind whirled through different excuses, trying to find some reason for her absence that Shade wouldn't have to guess to seem innocent.

"I'd like you to answer the question, Ms. McAlester." The detective pressed. Misprint blinked very hard, and tried to think, but the soft rasp of her interrogator and the sick smell of the cigarette were making her mind foggy and clouded. "Ms. McAlester? Where were you? Who took you there?"

Suddenly, the pieces fell into place. Misprint took a deep breath, still staring at her hands, and numbly ran the story over in her mind. Then, with a small prayer, she raised her eyes to the detective's and took a breath.

Specs was woken up by the telephone ringing loudly by his ear. In a moment, he was sitting up, the sheets falling to his lap, glasses shoved hastily onto his nose, and the receiver pressed tight against his ear.

"Hello?" He asked, his voice clogged by sleep, as his eyes focused blearily on the alarm clock. 2:45 am shone blood red at him, as he took a few deep breaths to try and clear out his lungs and relax his shoulders. Every muscle under his skin was tensed as the memory of the previous evening flew back at him, the echoes of all curses tossed back and forth in Jack's dorm.

"Specs. Ministry," The fuzzy voice on the other line said brusquely. Specs was instantly awake, his eyes blinking rapidly under his glasses.

"I hear you," he prompted.

"We just received news from the New York Police Department," The voice read out, as though it was rehearsed. "Alyson Mayer is being called in for re-examination. They found Faith McAlester."

Specs felt his jaw drop, and for a moment, the entire world seemed to cease turning in his shock. It took him a few moments to speak, and before he did, he had to clear his throat and try to resettle his thoughts.

"That's impossible," He told them. "Our witch did a search. She found fire source in a dead body."

"Then your witch was hoodwinked," The official replied impassively. "Faith McAlester was found near the hospital, where she was recognized and sent to police headquarters immediately. They're in the process of questioning her as we speak."

Specs pressed his glasses harder into his face, and swung his legs down onto the floor, already scanning the dorm room for his jeans and tee-shirt, wondering where he had tossed them last night.

"Where was she?" He asked, trying to stifle his voice. There was no point in arousing the suspicion of neighboring dorm rooms, although he had a feeling they might have been woken up by the phone call anyways. "Who had her?"

"That information is still being withheld, but if our sources are correct, she should be back at St. Mary's by morning, provided her wounds are healed. Get her to tell you the full story. If there's any sort of connection to Spot, we want to know about it."

"Wounds?" Specs questioned, pulling his jeans up over the boxers he wore to bed, and zipping them shut. "She was hurt?" "From what we could see, bruises on her face and arms, scars branching from the corners of her eyes, and across her lips and fingers. Some minor burns, and a patch of missing hair near her right ear. Black eyes, long scar on her chin and a slightly swollen lip."

"Shit," Specs murmured under his breath, as he stuffed one arm into the t-shirt. "The scars are done up in a particular pattern," The official told him. "A sketch has been sent to your email account, see if you can hook up the design with any vampire gangs or cults. No other distinguishing marks could be picked out at this time."

"Alright," Specs confirmed, as he stretched on hand towards his computer and just managed to brush the start up button with his fingertips. He then moved back towards the phone, head reeling with questions that he knew he wouldn't get a chance to ask. Questions he knew he'd have to figure out for himself.

"Thanks," he added.

"We'll contact you before she arrives," the official promised. Then, with a fuzzy click, the line went dead.

"What was Faith McAlester's relationship with Stephen Carter?" The cop asked. Shade was sitting across the table from two cops, once more. They had introduced themselves as Detective Morley and Officer Bassi in businesslike tones, before taking their seats, Morley pulling out a withered notebook that was falling apart at the edges. Shade caught a glance of a broad, slanted scribble scrawled over a few battered pages, before Morley turned the book towards his chest and focused his dark eyes on hers. She didn't like looking into his eyes. Whenever she did, it felt like she was falling through deep wells, wells that were sucking her downwards to some sort of hellish basement that there was no escape from. She settled for focusing them on Officer Bassi's hands, long fingers and strong looking nails edged with black. Shade's emotions were doing a strange sort of tightrope walk between bubbling over with ecstasy and being lost in despair. Her fingers and lips were tingling, and her stomach was clenching inside of her as her mind went on fantasies without her.

Fantasies of appearing back at the school with Misprint, of greeting their friends and hugging Racetrack and Mush and Blink, of having Gemini and Mondie laugh and wrap their arms around them, of falling into Jack's arms against his warm, warm chest and letting him take her away from the last 24 hours that seemed as though they had come straight out of a horror movie. At the same time, her shoulders were tense and her face was pale and agitated. What if Detective Locklair found some other suspicious reason for keeping her? What if their stories didn't match? What had happened to Misprint?

"How are you feeling?" Detective Morley had asked her when they first sat down. Shade didn't know how to answer. She just couldn't believe that Misprint was alive. And couldn't think of any way to get out of this relatively unscathed. The only way to possibly come out was to leave as many options open as possible. She tried to remember everything she had said in previous interviews, but the nervous joy at seeing her best friend alive was slowing her mind down and distracting her. She finally raised her eyes to Morley's, but only to risk a quick glance.

"She kept telling me that they were best friends," She replied. Deciding to go for broke, she didn't stop. "Well…there were rumors, of course. Everyone thought that they were dating. But she always told me they were best friends, and I guess I believed her."

"You guess?" Morley raised an eyebrow. Shade shrugged.

"Mis…Faith was fairly…prudent. Is fairly prudent." She felt a grin tugging at her lips at the pure joy that seemed to course through her veins that came with the right to say is. "She doesn't like guys too much, she told me once that she didn't want to be tied down. But she was okay friends with them. I don't think there was any kinda…relationship…"

"If there was, would she tell you about it?" the Detective pressed. Shade tried to conceal her uncertainty, tried to imagine what Misprint could have concocted. It could be anything. Deciding not to burn any bridges, she shrugged again.

"I don't know."

"So there may have been a relationship between them that you didn't know of?" Shade realized what they were pushing for.

"She was over in his room a lot," She said. "Usually…well, she'd sneak out at night. Maybe."

The cops exchanged glances, and Morley jotted something down in the notebook. Shade smiled, unable to contain her happiness, unable to stop the nervous twitching to her fingers. Morley nodded, and raised those frightening eyes to hers once more. Shade tried her best to hold his stare, before she had to drop her own gaze to the table.

"How well did you know Stephen Carter?" He asked. Shade reacted immediately.

"Not very well," She insisted, shrugging to try and seem as nonchalant as possible. "I mean…he passed away…December? He was only here for two or three months."

"And you didn't speak with him much?" Morley asked. "Even though your roommate was over at his dorm as often as once every other night?"

Shade shrugged once more.

"He was Faith's friend. I spoke to him once or twice…said hi and all…he just bonded better with her."

Morley leaned over the table, his gaze more intense. Shade felt a light film of sweat form on her palms, and pressed them against the thighs of her pajamas.

"You weren't familiar with any of Stephen's acquaintances besides Faith?" He asked, his voice sounding slightly heavier. "Did you ever see any of his friends from out of school drop by? Did you know any of them?"

Startled by the cop's intensity, Shade bristled slightly under his stare.

"No," She said, sounding rather surprised. "Most of the kids at St. Mary's have friends at the school, but not outside of it."

Morley stared at her, almost as though unsatisfied with her answer. Shade furrowed her brows, trying to figure out what they were pushing at. Whatever they wanted, she would gladly give it to them. All she wanted was to leave, to go back to her dorm room. Or to spin the year back to where it was…when they didn't know anything about slayers or elementals or witches or vampires. Anything about Spot.

"In past interviews," Morley continued, leaning backwards on his chair with his shoulders still tight. "You've been unable to supply us with information about what happens during the evenings and nights in your dorm room. You admitted to sneaking out to visit friends once or twice. Are these out of school friends?"

"No," Shade said quickly. "In school friends."

"Name them." The command sounded so incredibly harsh, Shade found herself stumbling to get the names out.

"Amanda Kirkendell…Jennifer Abbots…um, Anthony Higgins…sometimes Michael Meyers or Sean Krauske…"

"Check those names," Morley said shortly. Shade paused, confused, before realizing that he was talking to Bassi, who pulled out another notebook and flipped to a certain page. His eyes scanned some kind of list, and then he nodded once, sliding the notebook shut.

"Those were a few of the kids that did initial interviews," He told Morley quietly, who had not yet taken his gaze off Shade. "McAlester mentioned some of them too. As far as we can tell, they have no connection to Carter except through her."

Shade's brows furrowed even tighter. This connection to Stephen. It was getting unnerving. She wished that she could have had some way of communicating with Misprint just to get the basic idea of what the story was going to be. This technique of hanging by your fingers wasn't exactly the most comforting thing in the world. Morley was flipping through a few pages in his own notebook, giving Shade time to lean back in her seat and brace herself for the next round of questioning. Morley sighed and folded the notebook shut, tucking it back into the breast pocket of his uniform. For some reason, Shade found herself stiffening in her seat as Morley scraped his chair back and stood.

"Faith has revealed to us that Stephen was part of a gang," he began. Shade nearly choked, but managed to quell her surprise down to a slight raising of the eyebrows and the smallest of double takes.

_"He'd tell me about the shit they got up to," Misprint said bitterly, staring down at her fingers as Detective Locklair scribbled down a few notes in a thick, broad slanted font. "But he was scared. He hated it…I don't know how he got into it in the first place…"_

"She implied that his suicide was due to the pressure he was facing within the gang," Morley continued, turning and pacing towards one of the near walls. Shade kept her body rigid, following his figure with her eyes, waiting for her turn to speak and rehearsing her lines in her head.

_"They knew he was scared and they knew he might tell the police on 'um," Misprint said, raising her eyebrows. "They knew a lotta shit about him…I guess the big thing was that they knew about me…"_

"And after he was gone, she theorized that the gang had pinned her down as it's next victim. She had a lot of information on them that could easily be held over their heads, and that was the last thing they needed." Morley turned and gave her an accusatory look, one that made Shade want to curl up in her seat and disappear. She glanced at Bassi, to see if he was looking at her, and his cold gray gaze didn't seem to help make matters any better.

_"Why didn't you tell the police?" Detective Locklair pushed, leaning forwards, making Misprint tremble in her seat. "Why didn't you alert one of the authorities around your school when Stephen killed himself? Why was it that you withheld that information?" _

_The terror in Misprint's eyes was quite genuine. The forceful way Locklair was pushing himself forwards made her skin tingle. _

_"I was scared!" She claimed, voice cracking slightly. "I didn't know if they…I was afraid that if I said anything they were gonna…I thought…I don't know what I thought!" _

"And it seems as though that's what happened," Morley continued coldly. "The one face that Faith caught a glance of before she was knocked out was the face that Stephen had described to her many times, distinguishable by the long scar down his forehead and cheek."

Morley's head swiveled around to catch Shade's reaction to this information. When her face remained as blank and impassive as ever, a slight sneer twisted his mouth.

"Does that mark sound familiar to you at all?"

_"Stephen had told me about how they kill people," Misprint was saying, her voice low and shaking with fear. "They rip up their throats. I was scared. I didn't want them to find out that I had said anything and come after me…"_

"No," Shade insisted, glancing from Morley to Bassi, back to Morley. Her mind was reeling with confusion. What sort of thing were they trying to convict her of? Every word she said only seemed to be damning her. Morley's sneer became more pronounced as he paced back to the table.

"Where were you when Faith was assaulted and kidnapped?" He asked evenly. Shade felt her blood run cold. This was bad. It was specific. She couldn't specify a certain friend, because if they were interviewed later on, they wouldn't be able to answer correctly. And Misprint's answers were still unknown to her. She took a deep breath.

"I was out," she said, trying to make her voice sound as natural as possible. "Just…just walking."

_"Shade was out," Misprint told Detective Locklair, her eyes downcast. "I don't know where she was. Visiting…walking…she might have gone to a club."_

"Convenient," Morley raised his eyebrows. "You just happened to be out the night your roommate was attacked."

Shade furrowed her brows, feeling her throat constrict tightly, making it hard for her to breathe.

"What do you mean?" She asked, hearing her voice rise. "Don't you think I feel bad enough already? If I was there, she wouldn't have gone! None of this would have happened!"

_"I was half asleep. I heard people come in, but I thought it was a dream," Misprint admitted, scratching absentmindedly at a red spot on her arm. "But…I realized something was wrong. That…maybe I wasn't dreaming. So I rolled over and saw a group of guys in my room…all guys, as far as I could see," her voice caught raggedly, and she cleared her throat before continuing. "One of them…he had a scar down the side of his face. Long and jagged. I…I could never forget that. Stephen told me about him. I knew it was his gang."_

Shade's mind was racing. Morley and Bassi turned and shared a glance, and almost as quickly, the perception shot through her, the blazing realization at what it was they were trying to get at.

"You think I'm part of Stephen's gang?" She managed, her voice high and squeaky. "Is that what you think?"

_"I didn't have time to scream," Misprint said. "I was so tired…I wasn't thinking right. The guy with the scar crawled on top of me and pressed a hand down on my throat…I couldn't breathe…couldn't speak…couldn't yell…"_

"Why is it that you snuck out every night or every other night and never left a specific location?" Morley questioned, rounding on Shade, striding up to the table. "Why is it that you were not in your dorm at three in the morning that night? Why is it that you threw a party on the day of Stephen's funeral?"

_"I can't remember much," Misprint admitted, her lip curling upwards slightly. "He whispered something to me…something about being…" A blush rose to her cheeks, and she lifted her chin defiantly. "Stephen's whore…he didn't know anything about…Stephen and I never…" _

_"What did he do then?" Locklair pressed, eyes never leaving Misprint's face._

"I didn't do it!" Shade yelled back, pushing her chair backwards. "Misprint and I have been friends ever since kindergarten! Ask anyone! I would never do anything to hurt her!"

"Then why was it that you packed up her things a month after her disappearance?" Morley yelled back, his voice soaring clearly over hers and sending her reeling back into her chair. "Why was it that you cleared away her things and packed them up as though she was already gone?"

Shade's mouth snapped shut, and she felt her body slump backwards into her seat, as though defeated. This was the one question that had got her in trouble in the first place. She stared up at Morley, dead silent.

_"He hit me over the head with something hard…a pipe, I think." Misprint said quietly. "Something. I blacked out. And when I woke up…I was lying somewhere blindfolded."_

Morley was staring down at her with something like vindictive triumph in his eyes. Shade narrowed her own, and took a breath in. There was no need to fake emotion, her voice was trembling with exhaustion and intensity.

"I couldn't bear to look at her things," She said quietly. "I've shared a dorm with her ever since junior high…everything in that room that belonged to her had personal meaning to me. Everything. The only thing I could bear to keep up was the picture of her and me and Anthony."

There was a silence in the room that was so thick, Shade almost thought that she had lost her hearing. Nothing seemed to be moving, nothing seemed to be making a sound. Morley didn't break his gaze, but his stance seemed less intimidating, less solid than it was before. Maybe it just looked that way to Shade.

"I was afraid," She said again, her voice sounding less strong than it was. "You guys kept coming in and asking questions like she was hurt…or like you wouldn't find her again. You wanted to know the stupidest things…all this talking and questions…it just got me scared."

_"They fed me," Misprint confirmed, nodding, her lip curling even farther. "They fed me…but that was all they did to keep me healthy. They…" She paused, and glanced up at Locklair, a little ruefully. "You can kinda see what they did, huh?"_

Morley sat back into his chair, palmed the notebook off the table, and began to write in it, the curly loops of blue ball point pen a strong contrast to the black that had been scrawled in by Locklair. Shade's heart was pounding so hard, she thought it might burst out of her rib cage any second. The tension was unbearable, there was nothing to hold onto. After a few moments, Morley ripped a page off of his notebook, handed it to Bassi, and nodded to him twice. Bassi stood up, and in a few seconds, was gone from the room, the door slamming shut behind him.

"Where's he going?" Shade asked wearily. Morley didn't look up at her, but only flipped through another page in the book and leaned back into his chair.

"Delivering a message to Detective Locklair," he replied in a surprisingly calm tone. "We're arranging a meeting."

"And when will I know the results?" Shade's voice had the hint of a sneer in it. Morley's eyes caught hers, and she felt the same peculiar sensation of falling, and prayed that it wasn't an omen.

"Whenever we're finished."

_Locklair finished writing in the notebook, and then folded it shut, before clicking the lid back on the pen with precise, brusque movements. _

_"We're glad to have found you, Ms. McAlester," he said finally, sounding slightly congenial at least. "And I think the New York Police Department would like to offer it's gratitude concerning your help with apprehending these gang members. Rest assured that we'll do our very best to bring them to justice."_

_Misprint nodded, lowered her head, and solemnly blinked back imaginary tears._

Spot realized that the sun would rise in two or three hours as he crossed the lawn of St. Mary's school. He could feel his skin tense at the thought. He, unlike many of his kinds, was strong enough to withstand sunlight, but he doubted if he would survive in this condition. His body still ached with hunger, and the taste of Misprint still lingering on his lips was hard to ignore. The need to drink his share was almost impossible to disregard, but something inside of him seemed to say that this was his last peaceful moment, the last moment he'd be able to feel the emotion that humans felt naturally, the emotions that belonged in human veins. He stopped below the fire escape, knowing that he was too weak to transport. Feeling slight flickerings of panic, he jumped up and grabbed hold of the ladder, body lifting roughly off the ground, and pulled himself up onto the first platform. He didn't want to think.

Everything inside of him, for once, seemed peaceful and compliant, everything seemed to fit once more into it's own little groove. The moment of silence before the storm. Step after step he climbed, as the city ground it's way around him, the city that never slept. He thought of the lair back in Brooklyn, and how his men must be returning by this time, waiting for his arrival, settling down to rest for the day. Some of them had been with him for ages, some of them had only been around for a year or two, still struggling with their new selves and abilities. For some reason, he felt no fondness for them. It seemed as though he was in an entirely different world. He pulled himself up to the top of the fire escape, and spotted Misprint's window down the row. Moving as softly as possible, so as to not wake anyone else who might make a fuss, he edged himself along the sills and let his body collapse into it's familiar crouch outside of her own. Everything seemed so well-known, he almost expected to look inside and see her sitting cross legged on her bed, waiting for him, clad in those long sweatshirts and baggy pants to hide the scars that faded to white time after time. But there was nothing. Her bed frame was empty, and stark looking against the brick wall. His eyes pierced through the darkness of the room, and was surprised to see that Shade wasn't in her bed. He briefly found himself contemplating this, but found that reasons didn't seem to matter to him anymore.

He didn't want anything to jar this fragile peace that had come over him, albeit how briefly. With one quick, smooth motion, he pushed the windowsill up, disappeared inside, and slid it shut behind him with a dull thud. Then, just in case, he reached up and pulled the curtains shut. He didn't need dawn surprising him while he was sleeping.

Misprint's mattress was propped up against the wall, bare and lonely with no sheets or blankets. But Spot could sense her scent deep in the fabric, and it comforted him for some strange reason. He moved towards it and lifted it off the wall, staggering for a moment as he tried to regain his balance, before dragging it towards her empty bed frame and easing it onto the springs once more. The room seemed cold and empty, but he wasn't sure if it was because of the bare walls and floor, or the fact that no one was there, that there was a chilling taste of panic and fear in the stale air. Something had happened here, and it was the reason that Shade was missing, this he knew. Before he could think on this further, he had unlaced his shoes, kicked them off, and was lying on the mattress, breathing in the soft smell of blueberries and skin, his eyes flickering closed. He felt like a soldier crawling blindly through an enemy tank that he had destroyed, a man sleeping in the ruins of a house that he himself had set a torch to long ago. Everything was missing and cold and dead, all at his own hand, and yet the very fact that the structure of this old life remained seemed to be a comfort. And although Misprint herself was nowhere near, just the fact that she was alive seemed to be enough to carry him gently off to sleep. Comfort. A small voice in his head seemed to speak against his exhaustion, holding him back from drifting into dreams.

_You know the reason,_ The voice whispered. _You know the reason why her smell comforts you._

Spot's eyelids twitched slightly.

_You told her outside the hospital._ Spot's eyes flickered open, catching the small rays of light from underneath the door and flashing an eerie blue in the darkness. For the first time in the dorm, a feeling of cold uncertainty drifted through him, a feeling of doubtful regret teemed with defiant sureness. He sighed and shifted on the mattress, hearing the bed creak beneath him, the moments replaying in his mind with frightening accuracy.

_I did tell her,_ he mused to himself, his eyes tracing a crack on the ceiling, running over the rough plaster work that had survived the century. He pictured these dorms heavy with families and children, pictured the people changing through the decades…the 1900s weren't that long ago. So many things had happened throughout time, his own actions, his own words…they didn't seem to matter anymore. So what if he had told her? She was going to die like everyone else. Once she was done being young and once the fire had run it's course with her, she was going to die. The feeling of peace couldn't be shaken. He closed his eyes once more and settled back into the mattress. If she was going to die, then she might as well be told. She might as well know. And in a strange way, he was glad that he had said so.

The moment had been gentle enough…why not? As he drifted slowly off to sleep, the thought suddenly came to him that this was the last of his human self. He would be Spot again once he woke and felt night's air streaming through the cracks in the windows, and tasted blood on the city.

_This is gonna hurt like hell,_ he thought, as his body slumped into the mattress and his eyes fastened shut.

After what seemed like hours, Morley came to get her. Shade had been silent, sitting at the edge of her seat and tracing the fake grain on the table with one raggedly chewed nail, straining her ears to see if, by some freak chance, she'd be able to hear any voices from outside the interrogation room, any snippets of conversation that would give her some kind of hint as to which way the wind was blowing. Morley had left a few minutes after he had sent Bassi away. Shade had tried to catch his eyes as he left, wondering exactly what was on his mind, but he hadn't even glanced her way. He had almost seemed a bit rueful, she had thought, as the door shut behind him. Maybe he was just as nervous as she was. Whatever it was that he was thinking now, as he cocked his head towards the door and locked eyes with her, she was uncertain.

His poker face was in place, not a muscle twitched in his stern look as she stood and moved towards the hallway. She was so tired, it felt as though she hadn't slept for months, and the examination had made her feel even more exhausted, if it was possible.

"What's happening?" She asked, as Morley shut the door behind her with an imposing click. She found herself not even caring if she was going back to the cells. All that she asked was that she could see Misprint, talk to her, hug her, and then go to sleep. Wherever. She felt that she could have slept on a highway if given the chance. Morley didn't move to place a hand on her wrist or elbow as everyone else had done before the last examination.

"We've compared your two stories," he told her as they walked through the cold tiled corridors. His heels clicked loudly, hypnotically. "And have concluded that there is nothing to hold against you. You both are free to go."

Shade could have collapsed. She concentrated on placing one foot in front of the other, moving her body forwards through the endless corridors as though her life depended on it. The feeling that came along with his words seem to hit her like a punch to the stomach, and she could feel the slow realization move throughout her, as though she had been injected with something that was coursing through her veins and making her head spin, making a smile come to her face. It felt as though a huge weight had suddenly been lifted from her, making her feel that if she jumped she could easily reach up and brush the fluorescent lights that shone harshly down on the both of them.

"That's it?" Shade found herself asking, a multitude of excitement bubbling up inside of her. "We can go? You guys are going to take us back?"

"There are a few witness forms that Ms. McAlester is still filling out," Morley told her, as they turned a corner and came upon a door with a dark frosted window. "And after she has filed them, you will be escorted back."

Shade held her breath as Morley reached forwards and pushed the door open. Shade's heart pounded in the root of her tongue as her eyes focused on the scene in the room. Detective Locklair was leaning up against the counter, his face seemingly relaxed, the exhausted circles under his eyes making his expression seem long and gaunt. There were a few cops sitting in chairs that lined the room, and a tired receptionist behind the counter, her smile plastered onto her face. And standing in front of the counter was Misprint. Her face, too, was one that looked worse for wear. Her brows were pulled together, and her eyes were quite red, though whether from exhaustion or from tears, Shade was unsure. Her whole body seemed wilted, curved over in a broken arch over the forms, and her pen was moving slowly, filling them out in messy handwriting that was barely legible, her fingers shaking, making the pen jerk back and forth. Reaching out from the wet corners of her eyes were light scars, twisting and turning in her skin, dark and angry, too shallow to be done up with stitches. The same scars decorated her lips and fingers. But the eyes that peered out from between the scars and tired, streaked eyelids were the same clear blue that Shade remembered. The whole world seemed to cease it's turning as Misprint's head moved up, and her eyes flicked over to the doorway, catching Shade's own in a familiar gaze that she thought she would never see again.

In a moment, the girls had flown across the room and into each others arms.

Misprint was a lot skinnier. Her shoulders were hunched, and her neck seemed to have wilted like a flower stem, making her head droop forwards and her eyes stare lifelessly down at the floor. Every movement she made seemed light and delicate, almost as though just by touching her, you could break her into a thousand pieces. But for some reason, she still felt the same in Shade's arms. It could have been a hug at the beginning of the year, after a fight, after finding out that they had passed a course they thought they were doomed to fail.

Misprint's rough intake of breath as Shade's arms wrapped round her waist was the same, Shade's chin resting on her right shoulder was the same, the way Misprint was able to reach around her neck and grab her own elbows was the same. There was a moment of dizzifying silence as the two girls embraced, and then the sound of Misprint's sharp gasp as Shade's arm pressed against a large bruise on her side, and her eyes began to water, tears trickling into the shallow crevasses of the cuts near her eyes. Shade hastily released her, stepping back, her arms jerking away from her friend.

"Sorry!" She said hastily, seeing the way Misprint's scars shone with tears. "I didn't…I'm sorry…"

"Don't be," Misprint said quickly, shaking her head, aware of how awkward this must seem to every other member in the room. "It's…just a…don't be."

The two girls stared at one another for a moment, at a loss for what to say. Shade opened her mouth and then closed it again, and Misprint's fingers hastily began twisting at one another in front of her hips. There was a brief silence, before Misprint's lips screwed up into a subtle grin, and her shoulders shook slightly with silent laughter. Shade's mouth began to twitch, and all of a sudden, the girls were hugging again, unable to quell the waves of laughter that swept the both of them. Shade was careful not to press to hard, aware of how frail her friend seemed in her arms.

"Shit, Misprint," She choked, unsure if she was laughing or crying any more. "Don't ever do that again. Ever," She took Misprint's shoulders lightly in her fingers and held her at arms length, realizing that her friend was on the verge of tears as well. "For serious. If you ever die again, I'll kill you myself, do you understand?"

"I understand," Misprint grinned, her lips trembling. Shade noted the beginnings of tears in her friends eyes, and realized that her own eyes were getting hot as well. Hastily, she released her friends shoulders and shoved her hands into her pockets.

"We're just a bunch of babies," She said happily, blinking back the tears. Misprint nodded, and glanced back at the forms. Her lips seemed to be permanently stuck in a grin.

"I'm almost done," She said breathlessly. "Just a few more…we can go back right after I finish."

Shade nodded as Misprint turned and began to scribble in the answers to the questions hastily, her pen blotting and smudging every now and then in her haste to finish. Shade realized how almost everyone's eyes were fastened on them, and felt almost embarrassed as she hunched her shoulders up and dipped her head low. But at the same time, her whole body was pulsing with this strange euphoria and sadness, as she watched her friend's pen race over the paper. She knew it was full of spelling mistakes and strangely phrased sentences, but that only seemed to make her even happier. Misprint had always been horrible at spelling.

"Here," Misprint said in an almost triumphant tone, shoving the papers towards the receptionist, leaving a long streak of ink down one side. The receptionist, her smile still in place, took them and began checking them over. Locklair looked up at Officer Bassi and nodded once.

"You two will be escorted back to the school," He said in a rehearsed, even voice. "The authorities at your school have been notified, and will let your peers know tomorrow."

The words didn't make any sense to either of the girls. Both were floating, feet barely touching the ground, as they turned and shared grins with one another. Shade couldn't help but notice how the usual flair was missing behind Misprint's eyes. The next few minutes seemed to pass in a blur. Officer Bassi had pulled out a set of keys and was walking the two girls to the door. Out into a police car parked by the curb. Was it the same police car that Shade had arrived in? She couldn't tell any more. She was so intent on making up a story, she had barely even noticed she was in a car. The skies were beginning to lighten faintly in the East, and the noise of the city was becoming louder with every step they took. Misprint looked up and breathed in the smell of the city, as though she had forgotten what it was like. Quietly, she reached over and took Shade's hand in her own. Bassi opened the door for them, and they stepped inside the police car.

Spot's eyes snapped open. Someone was coming. He could hear footsteps coming down the halls, quiet, light footsteps that had nearly left him sleeping. He couldn't have that. Agile as a cat, he slid off the mattress and shoved his boots onto his feet, fingers flying over the laces and tightening them as the footsteps drew nearer to the dorm. The scent of blueberries seemed to envelope him once again, and his mouth twisted into a leer, fangs flashing in the dim light of the room.

It seemed that Misprint was back. Every cell in him screamed to stay put, to wait until both girls were in the room. His whole body was aching, physically aching, with hunger, and the temptation to pull Misprint up against him and bury his face in her neck was almost impossible to resist. But, with a soft groan escaping his lips involuntarily, he shot towards the window and noiselessly lifted it, sliding his body out into the fading night. Misprint needed a few days to start trusting him again, to let the weight of his words sink in, to build up a love of her own. And once that happened…

A smirk lit his face as he slid the window shut again, and began to edge towards the fire escape. Women were so easy to beguile. Whisper a few romantic words by moonlight, and they were all yours. He swung himself up onto the fire escape and turned his head towards the sky. True, light was beginning to stream it's way across the horizon. But it wouldn't take long to find some weak being to drag into a back alley and feed upon. And once he did, he'd be able to bide his time in the shadows, waiting for nightfall once more.

And then, he thought with a growl, as he took off down the fire escape, he would personally stake every being in this city that had dared to spill Misprint's blood in the last few months. He would stake them dead.

Shade had thought she heard the snap of a window being shut as she unlocked the door to their room and pushed it open with hesitant fingertips. But she must have been imagining things. Misprint followed her in, almost shaking with apprehension. She could barely believe that she was back, without a care in the world. It was almost as though every problem she had ever had was solved and locked up, some place she'd never even have to look at them ever again. Her eyes darted around the room, drinking up every detail as though starved for it. The walls were bare, the floor was amazingly clean and tidy, and the only things that were left were neat and arranged on shelves and desks. Misprint's mouth fell open in a gape as Shade shut the door behind her and locked it with a firm click.

"Wow," she whispered, eyes traveling around the dorm room. "This is insane!"

"I cleaned up," Shade admitted, almost embarrassed. Misprint's eyes alighted on the boxes stacked in the corner, with her name scrawled on them in thick Sharpie letters. She winced slightly, and then moved towards them, her walk jerky and uncoordinated. Shade watched as she fell to her knees before them and pried open the first one, peering in at the evidence of her existence. She was silent for a moment, before reaching in and pulling out a solitary sock, decorated in bright rainbow colors, slightly worn at the toes.

"You really thought I was dead, didn't you?" She asked softly. Shade nodded, then realizing that Misprint couldn't see her, cleared her throat.

"Yeah," she said, slightly sheepish. "Gemini…well, she thought…"

"Gemini?" Misprint's lips curved around the word, and before she knew it, she was smiling again. "Gemini and Mondie and everyone?" Shade didn't know what to say. Misprint felt a laugh bubbling up in her throat just at the pure joy of saying her friends names again. She laid the sock back down on the pile, and then pushed herself to her feet again, swaying slightly off balance. Shade kicked off her own shoes and glanced towards her friends bed, realizing that she should start making it up again. Strangely enough, the mattress was laid out on it, with a slight dent, as though someone had been sleeping their recently. Shade moved towards it and ran her hand over the surface, but there was no warmth, no remainders of a body. Her eyebrows furrowed slightly, but before she could say anything, Misprint was moving around the room again, touching everything with curious fingertips, and fighting back joyful laughter. Shade grinned, and then crouched until she could see under the bed, could see the pile of blankets that she had stripped off the bare mattress and neatly folded. It seemed like ages ago that she had cleaned up the room, and ages ago that she had folded up the sheets and piled them neatly where she would never have to see them again. Quickly, with fumbling, trembling fingers, she redid the bed as neatly as she could, grabbed a pillow from her own, and tossed it over on Misprint's.

Misprint was still darting around the room like some curious butterfly, examining every picture and poster that adorned the walls.

"So," She said, the laughter making her voice tremble erratically. "What was it like having a dorm all to yourself?"

"Freaking lonely," Shade said without even thinking, moving towards the shelves to pull out a pair of pajamas. With a slight start, she realized that she was still in her pajamas, the ones that she had been wearing all along. She had put these on…two days ago? How long had it been that she had spent at the police station? Her mind didn't seem to be working. With dim, narrowed eyes, she turned and glanced at the clock. It was five in the morning. Misprint collapsed onto her bed with a giddy smile, and was staring up at the ceiling. The same crack was there, the same rough bricks pressing up against the side of her mattress. Shade suddenly felt awkward. The sight of her friend back on her bed filled her with emotion, filled her with nostalgia and happiness. But at the same time, it filled her with this inquisitive urge, as her eyes traced the bruises in her friend's flesh. She felt the questions ready to pour from her lips, but held them back, fought them back, not wanting to see her friend's face crumple, not wanting to see the defensive barrier block out her eyes. Misprint seemed to sense the tension, and Shade could see the stringy muscles under her friends skin tighten.

"D'you wanna sleep?" Shade asked, glancing at the clock once more. "We have…two or three hours before everyone wakes up."

Misprint didn't look as happy as she had a moment before, Shade realized. The smile was slowly fading, and she was nodding slowly.

"I'm tired," she said simply. Shade nodded once more, before moving over and flicking the light off. Misprint felt her eyes burn slightly, and she shut them tight, feeling her way under the covers and then pulling them up to her chin. They draped over her body like a shroud over a corpse. She listened to the soft pads of Shade's footsteps moving back to her own bed, the creak of the springs as she crawled underneath the covers, and the easy sigh that escaped her lips as her head hit the pillow.

"I'm glad your back," her friend said. A sad smile came to Misprint's mouth.

"I'm glad too," she replied tightly. There was a small silence between the two girls, before Misprint rolled over to face the wall. Shade could feel her whole body weighted in exhaustion. The last time she had slept could hardly have been called relaxing…there were still marks on her arms from when she had clawed at her own skin in her sleep. She opened her mouth to say goodnight, but before she could even force the words out, her eyes were shut and her mind was drifting softly into sleep. For the next three hours, Shade slept peacefully while Misprint buried her face in her pillow, body rocking with jagged sobs.

_The hospital was glowing harshly in the night, the light yellow and flourescent as it spilled out onto the concrete plaza. Mispirnt was staggering, barely able to support her own weight, as Spot led her towards it's doors. The very feel of her in his arms was different, her shoulder blades seemed shrunken and weak, and her whole body was shaking uncontrollably, jerking and twitching as though tortured. Spot pulled her in closer, the feeling of her warmth against his dead heart sparking some unknown feeling in his throat. It was a feeling that frightened him. _

_A family was gathered outside the doors, all smiling grandparents and laughing children and beaming, loving parents. Wrapped tightly in the mothers arms was a soft smelling bundle, Spot could taste the new blood on the air, and could hear the baby's shallow, sweet breathing. The mother was staring down at it with the sort of love that Spot couldn't remember any more. They glanced up as the vampire stumbled into the soft light, Misprint clasped tight to his side. The mother frowned slightly, but didn't say anything, and turned her head away. The family continued to laugh and congratulate and exclaim, slowly moving as a group towards the parking lot out back. Both Misprint and Spot watched them, eyes trained on the family. Misprint felt a slow sadness start in her stomach, trying to remember the faces of her own parents. They weren't coming as easily as they had before. _

_"Comon," Spot said, moving her towards the doors. Misprint shook her head._

_"I don't wanna go to the hospital," she said softly, her voice echoing in her throat. "Just take me to Stephen…Stephen always takes care of me…" _

_"Don't do this, Misprint," Spot pleaded, turning her to face him. She looked cold, even though the night was warm. Summer was approaching fast, yet here she was, shivering uncontrollably at arms length. She was wearing a pair of pyjamas that looked as though they had come straight from a dumpster, torn and stained with something dark and sick. But Spot knew they were hers. She had been wearing them for the last three months. _

_"Spot?" Misprint murmured, the light coming from behind her, framing her barbed wire hair in a golden glow, turning her face into a dark silhouette. _

_"I think…I think I…" Spot knew what she was going to say. He glanced around wildly, body pulsing with anxiety and this strange new feeling. Then, almost harshly, he took her in his arms and pulled her towards one of the cement supports, stumbling over his own feet, nearly knocking her to her own knees. She moaned as he pulled her into the shadow that the pillar cast, and then gently pressed her up against the rubbly cement, securing her in his own arms and own shadows. _

_"I don't want anyone to see us," he whispered. Misprint shook her head, her eyes nearly closing, shoulders collapsing in his own hands. "Misprint, listen to me. You have to." _

_Misprint's eyes forced themselves open, and she raised her face to his. The hair from his head fell forwards, brushing slightly against her eyelashes. With the cement up against her back, and the feeling of his body close to hers…she was reminded forcibly of that first night at the club, when she had caught a glimpse of his eyes for the first time. Crystalline grey, blue, green…if someone had asked her what colour they were, she wouldn't have been able to answer properly. Their gazes connected, and she could feel a powerful shot of heat running through her whole burned, hollow body, leaving her breathless and weightless. The beam of light between them couldn't have been severed by the most powerful spell. _

_"You didn't kill him, did you?" She asked softly, her words slurred under scarred lips. Spot stared at her, his gaze drilling down into her own, and shook his head. "Stephen? You didn't kill him?" _

_"Faith," Spot whispered. He reached up and hesitantly touched her lips with one finger. Misrpint's eyes fluttered shut. "No," he whispered intently. "Open your eyes, Faith, look at me." Misprint's eyelids twitched, before pulling open once more. Spot leaned in close, so close his lips brushed hers and made a thrill run through her throat and fingers. _

_"I love you," He whispered. A shudder ran through Misprint's body, and she seemed almost weightless, before her eyes drooped shut and she collapsed into his arms._

****

****

**_Shout outs!_  
  
****Iaintgottaname  
****Misprint:** Yeah…we'll hurry…in a month or two…you might want to get used to the feeling of sitting on the edge of your chair, because it takes us forever to update.  
**Shade:** No kidding, I think our record is like six months. [shrug] I blame misi and her boyfriend's penis entirely  
**Misprint:** Hey, that's not entirely…yeahhhh…yeah it is.

**OneConfusedNewsie  
****Misprint:** Aww, we're honoured. Hey Shade! We're those crazy kids that fans read even late at night! Freakin' awesome!  
**Shade:** Dude, we're still writing it at three in the morning. . .mostly because we're also those crack heads who change the plot FIFTY GAZILLION TIMES

**Mondie  
****Misprint: **Yeah. Damn you and your saving chapters. Whenever we need to go back and discreetly change some facts, you'll always be there to contradict us. –taps nose- Let's just keep this whole thing to ourselves, eh?  
**Shade: **yes we could, _oor_ she could write a risque expose on us and thoroughly trash our reputation as insane vampire newsie fans with little to no ability to keep one plot line between chapters.

**Tanzanite  
****Misprint: **Why thank you very much. We're glad you have not caught onto all the blazing plot holes yet. (How did the police manage to overlook the initials carved in Stephen's back? Why do they think he killed himself? YOU CAN'T WRITE ON YOUR BACK!!!)  
**Shade:** she's cut off. No more iced tea for misi. Also no more Carmy sex. We'll try to keep updating at a regular interval . . . . however everyone knows we'll fail horribly.

**Fiffifofum  
****Misprint:** I can sympathize entirely with you on the computer issue. My computer, too, is lame. So lame, in fact, that it's not even in the house right now. It's out for freakin' million dollar repairs. Gah. But thanks very much for the review. 'Twas quite uplifting.  
**Shade:** uplifting like the STD Seize The Day song. Which makes little to no sense now but it will. Oh. It. Will. We wuv that people wuv this story. We think it's scary and scarring to small children and pregnant woman.

**Crabber (aka. Jules)  
****Misprint:** Whoaaa! WHOAAAA! Breathe! Breathe! We love you guys, but not enough to make you pass out! Anyways, thanks so much for the extremely powerful review. We think you're the anti-lame. Actually, your questions strikes deep in the realm of vampire knowledge that Makes. No. Sense. Jack was able to turn vampire, because he didn't have much blood left. And therefore, by consuming Spot's blood…something happened that made him vampire-y. Yet, since Shade had plentiful blood, regardless of having a huge gash on the back of her head, when she drank Spot's blood it was more a flashback thing…like a…memory passing penis thing…penis…yeah…I'm sure Shade has some whacked out anti-logic that will explain it better.  
**Shade:** [glares at Misprint and the lack of logic_] actually_ [adjusts glasses] Jack is drained to the point of death which means that when Spot's blood passes into him the 'living' blood in his body doesn't have the strength to combat it. It's like a blood transfusion, when his blood was replaced so entirely it fucked up his genetic coding. Where as Shade, while injured, was still very much in control of her body so the small amount of blood she consumed did exactly jack shit. Except the memory penis thing. Also? Do not question the objectionable plot holes!

****

**From The Closet!  
****Misprint:** Here's a bit of trivia for you fans who think you all teh hard kore. What is…THE CLOSET?

_"I don't feel like goin' to Science taday." She said, pulling her hair back into a braid as they walked through the halls. They, as always, were the last ones down. _

_"You wanna cut it? Go spend time in The Closet?" Misprint asked. "The Closet" was an empty, janitors closet, that still held brooms, mops, buckets, and the perpetual odour of ammonia. But it was silent, and abandoned, and the last place any two girls would want to hang out if they were cutting class. That's why it was perfect for Misprint and Shade. _

****

**Misprint:** Yes, twas a brilliant little tidbit that we threw in and promptly forgot about. When the slayers found they couldn't meet in the dorm, why didn't they just go to the closet? When they needed to practice magic and slaying, why didn't they just go to the closet? When Gemini was doing her searches…why didn't they just go to the closet? Because we forgot all about it!! Yay!  
**Shade:** however now that we've found it, we're going to sit in it to do all our shout outs, chapter writing and From The Closet bits [a big duh to the last one]. I am losing my funny so I'm handing the key board back to the Typo  
**Misprint:** The typo. That original. –ahem- Yeah, basically we wanted to remind you guys of the closet's existance. Seeing as…it's written out in the second chapter and like…nevermentionedtillnow. Anyways. Here beginith the authors note. Shade and I have been up all night discussing different things about this story, and we'd like to think that we got it all under control. The end is invariably approaching, Misprint's back, left elbow, memory penis, things are great. I don't think we'll be hung up on any crazy plot problems until…oh, wait, I can't say…it's a surprise…  
**Shade:** by discussing she means making up cracked out songs and waving at ourselves in the mirror until the conversation deteriorated into random sex babble. [makes noises of displeasure] my Mad Skillz of Typing have so abruptly left. You would not believe how many times I had to backspace during this portion.  
**Misprint:** You guys should really be here. This is freakin' awesome.  
**Shade:** I'm freakin' awesome biznitch.  
**Misprint: **ALL YOUR FACE ARE BELONG TO US!  
**Shade:** Formatting documents that are 18 pages long in size 9 courier new can suck my sweet and bitable ass.


End file.
